


Jin Ae's Guide to Ballroom Dancing

by 123456ja



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Bromance, Comedy, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-26 02:47:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16673266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/123456ja/pseuds/123456ja
Summary: High School setting. The annual school prom is impending. Jiwon realizes that his dancing skills are less than adequate, and goes in search of a dancing instructor. Who looks suspiciously like Koo Junhoe.





	1. Meeting the Instructor

**Author's Note:**

> [ typical disclaimer for whatever it is ]
> 
> All of the iKON members mentioned in this story are all of the same age. Also, Jiwon is slightly taller than Junhoe here.
> 
> Enjoy.

.

.

"The results are out!"

With that shout, the considerable number of students milling about aimlessly in the hallway leapt to their feet and lunged forward in the general direction of the Postings Board at the end of the corridor. It was the last term for the seniors of LG High School, and the outcome of the final examinations would either be a ticket to a university, or proof that education had been a meaningless tribulation. In the uproar that spread through the hall, rippling the flanks in whispers and a mad rush of bodies, the first screams, either of joy or disappointment, began to resound.

From the back of the crowd, a slim, dark-haired young man was trying desperately to move a rock. Or rather, someone who was bearing a startling resemblance to said stone.

"Come on, Jiwon! Don't you want to see how you've done?"

"Haha, get real, Donghyuk! I don't need a certificate to be certified a genius!"

Donghyuk crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow at his best friend. "Jiwon," he said impatiently, tapping his foot on the ground and looking at the crowd as it shifted noticeably from various spots on the school compound into the cramped corridor that led to the posted results, "Hurry up! I don't want to be the last one to know that A) I actually made it or B) that I flunked out, you know?"

"Does it matter?"

The shorter boy's eyes narrowed. "Yes, it does," he replied calmly, turning as if to leave, but pausing mid-step to toss a casual comment over a shrug, "But if you're so scared, then I guess I'll have to go by myself."

"Excuse me? The genius is not scared of such a silly, trivial, unimportant thing! Where are you walking off to, Donghyuk? Wait for me! Argh!"

  
[Half an hour later]

"Wow."

"Yeah. I can't believe it."

"Me neither."

"YOU PASSED!" they chorused together.

Jiwon's eyes narrowed. "Very funny."

Donghyuk laughed, stepping up and socking Chanwoo playfully on the head. "I think the fact that we –all– passed calls for a celebration! What do you think?"

Yunhyeong frowned, shaking his head slightly. "I can't make it today. The organizing committee for the Annual Prom is meeting later, and you know, somehow, I—" he glanced significantly at Hanbin, who was fighting hard not to snicker, "—got sabotaged into the decorations planning." He threw an apologetic look at the others. "Sorry."

"Nah, it's okay," Jiwon waved it off. "We can go out tomorrow! My treat!"

Four pairs of eyes locked onto him with varying degrees of mistrust, doubt and suspicion written in them.

"Speaking of the prom," Donghyuk changed the subject smoothly, trying not to laugh, "If you hadn't mentioned it, it would've completely slipped my mind. It's in a fortnight, isn't it?"

Chanwoo nodded. "It's different this year, so I heard. Instead of having it out in the hall, they're clearing the gym and holding the dance there. Did you know? It's because they're opening the prom to the whole school this time, and not just the senior level! I think even the alumni get invited. It's going to be such a huge turn-out."

"Well, that sounds like fun! I'd better start brushing up on my fancy footwork, though, or the girls will complain that I'm a clod again."

They began to move down the hallway, each lost in a sudden private fantasy of prom dates, suits, vodka and various other things. It was only when they were halfway that Donghyuk noticed that Jiwon was no longer walking with them. Puzzled, he turned around.

The guy was standing frozen to the ground, his gaze unfocused and his jaw slack. Donghyuk stopped, nudging the rest to turn and look.

"Yah! Jiwon-ah! What's the matter with you?" Yunhyeong called loudly.

Glittering eyes snapped into focus, and Jiwon took a deep breath, letting out a big, hearty laugh. "What? There's nothing wrong with me! Let's go!"

But deep inside, the impending mortal peril seized him like a monster, choking him in its grasp, tightening the noose around his neck until he felt like he could hardly breathe. It was pure doom, an omen of perilous things to come, a forecast of danger. It was fear, it was terror and it was daunting beyond anything he had ever cared to think about. Everyone would be there, watching. Everyone would see.

Kim Jiwon didn't know how to dance.

He watched with narrowed eyes as the four silhouettes of his friends disappeared in various directions, then turned to go his own way, mumbling under his breath.

_"It's going to be so embarrassing! Imagine that!_ _All the girls will be there._ _Alongside the whole world..."_

"Argh!" he exploded aloud, clutching his bag tightly in his hand and frowning. "This won't do! There must be something!"

_"What can I do, what can I do…"_

Should he skip the dance altogether? No, it would seem as though he were afraid! And Kim Jiwon was most definitely never, ever afraid!

"But it will be so humiliating," he muttered to himself, his head hanging as his footsteps slowed in dejection. "And I don't know who to ask, anyway!"

This only reminded Jiwon of the fact that, yes, he was graduating, yes, there would be a prom, and yes, that he had no one special to go with.

Added to the fact that he had never moved to music in his entire life.

"What am I going to... do?" he groaned aloud, stopping abruptly and slumping on the ground, narrowly missing a lamppost. It was a catch-twenty-two situation, with no way around it that he could see.

_**Boom, boom-boom…boom, boom-boom.** _

"God, fine, so maybe I'm a little nervous, but does my heart have to beat that loudly?" he murmured wryly to himself.

_**Boom, boom-boom…boom, boom-boom.** _

No. That definitely didn't sound like a heartbeat. His head jerked up in suspicion then, and he nearly flailed when he realized that he had walked into a completely unfamiliar neighborhood while he had been thinking. And that the music was coming from what looked to be the local recreation club, a slightly crooked, cream and pink building that stood a way off from where he was sitting.

_"There must be some dance studio there"_

The idea hit him, with all the force of a brick hurled at his head, as he jumped to his feet, a huge smile blossoming on his face.

_"That's it!"_

 

* * *

 

 

He barely noticed that it was getting dark as he flew towards the beacon of light, hope burning in his heart. Why did that little building seem to remain so far out of his reach…?

The music abruptly stopped, and his heart thudded simultaneously against his ribcage as he looked up, disbelieving at his misfortune. Just a few more meters to that wooden gate, peeling with worn but oddly cheerful (and misplaced) yellow paint, and he would have made it.

After a while, a few people appeared from behind the door, moving leisurely down the steps and out of the gate, their handbags under their arms as their heels clicked on the pebbles on the path. They were mostly women, laughing and chattering; wiping their brows with towels and joking about what sounded like cabbages, husbands and other matters.

Wait. The class might have ended, but I can still go and ask if they have another! Or maybe I'll just get a private tutor so that all I need is one lesson and then I'll be set!

With that thought, he began walking once more, covering the last lap to the building, wondering absentmindedly how much he could afford to spend on this, when he heard the whine of the gate as it swung open. Shocked, he glanced up, and anything he might have reacted with died on his lips as he saw just whom it was standing before him.

It took another good minute before he could even utter a single syllable.

"JUNHOE?!"

And then he noticed that it was a woman. A woman who, by all sane and logical reasoning, had the right to look at him strangely as if he were a deranged madman, as she was doing so now.

She was tall, just slightly taller than the average female, with features so identical to the vocalist of the band in their school that if not for the slightly wavy black hair that fell to her shoulders, the pink of her lip gloss, and the silver rings hanging from her ears, he would have confirmed to his horror that surely it was Koo Junjoe standing there before him.

She was dressed in a pale yellow dress that ended at her knees, stylish white frills hemming the bottom, with a red sweater pulled loosely about her frame. On her feet were beige sandals, and seemingly as a final assurance that this was no rock singer who doubles as an ice man, her toenails were painted. Red.

He realized he was still staring after she cleared her throat, and even then had trouble pulling his jaw back up from the ground when a soft, low voice that sounded like Junhoe's penetrated his hearing.

"What do you want?"

God. She even speaks like him.

Resisting the urge to rip the girl's sweater off and check to see if she was the Iceman himself in disguise (for surely he was being overly imaginative here, and would definitely get into trouble for molestation if he even laid a finger on her), he shut his mouth and smiled, if a little weakly, at her. Lined eyes, cool and narrowed, looked back unblinkingly at him.

_"I'm seeing things, I'm seeing things."_

"Yes?" the question was more impatient now, and he felt the strings of reality tugging him out of the stupor he had fallen into. Blinking guiltily, he decided that it was the bad lighting, and a very unlikely coincidence. Only a coincidence, nothing more.

He suddenly remembered what he had come for. And flushed.

She crossed her arms tighter in front of her and shivered slightly, frowning at him. "Is. There. Something. You. Want. Sir?"

Jiwo looked at her helplessly. What am I supposed to say? That I want to—no, need to—learn how to dance? How can I tell anyone that?! I'm a genius! I can figure out things like this by myself!

"I don't have all night, you know."

_"Turn around and walk away, turn around now, nothing's the matter…"_

"I need to learn how to dance," he blurted.

She raised an eyebrow at him. His cheeks burned even more as he studied the sidewalk, fighting the urge to run.

The reality of what he was doing suddenly sank in. Kim Jiwon, was at the doorstep of a recreation club in an unfamiliar neighborhood, telling a woman who looked exactly like Koo Junhoe that he needed to learn how to dance.

_"Oh my god, oh my god,"_ his mind babbled. Get out of here.

"Well, then. Come on in."

_"I need to go home, sleep it off, and when I wake up, everything will be fine, this will have been a dream, but then again, I really should do this, and then I won't have to worry about the prom, but I don't even have any money—wait, did she just ask me to go in?"_

"Do you need a guide to the door, too?" she interrupted quietly, and he would have missed the sarcasm if he had not caught the quick rolling of her eyes before she turned away. That spurred him into action, and he let out a booming laugh. "Of course not!"

She stepped aside and gestured politely enough for him to go first.

The smiling middle-aged woman, short, plump, with curly brown hair pinned in a loose bun atop her head, made Jiwon feel comfortable immediately.

"So, so. You want to learn ballroom dancing?"

He ducked his head, and grinned sheepishly, suddenly shy. "Uh, well—I mean—um, well…yeah. I mean, I do."

Mrs. Park laughed. "It's unusual for teenaged boys to take an interest in something like this, that's all. Now, we offer group classes as well as private lessons. Group classes take place once a week, but we don't have a beginner's class going on right now, I'm afraid. Private lessons will cost you a bit more, about fifty dollars per lesson, but the advantage is that you get to choose when you learn, and what you learn. Does that sound good to you?"

He blinked. "Fifty dollars?"

She chuckled. "Well, it's not as though you won't get enough attention. A private lesson is just you, so the teacher focuses on you a lot more and teaches you a lot more. That's why it costs more."

"Oh." He slouched back into the chair.

"It'll be worth it," she persuaded teasingly. "Or you could just wait for the next group class starting in a month's time?"

_"A month's time! It'll be too late!"_

But if I just do this, then I'll go the prom and show them all what I'm capable of! Even Donghyuk won't be able to out-dance me!

He took a deep breath, then looked up at her and flashed a smile. "No, it's okay! I'll take the private lesson!"

It was only later, after he had filled out the forms and handed out—albeit reluctantly—a fifty-dollar bill from his wallet as a deposit for the first class that he booked for tomorrow, Saturday, that he realized he hadn't asked the studio mistress whom his teacher would be.

"Hmm," Mrs. Park eyed him. "For a boy of your height, there's really only one suitable person I can think of, and she just happens to be one of the best around. Besides, I think JinAe's last batch of group classes ended today, and she doesn't have any other private student for at least the next week, so she'll be available."

"Not you?" the doubtfulness in his tone made her laugh again.

"No, not me," she replied, shaking her head slightly, mirth in her voice. "But at least you had a chance to meet JinAe already, too."

"I did?"

Mrs. Park patted his back and smiled. "Why, yes! She's the one who brought you here!"

_"Oh no. That woman does not like me!"_  

He opened his mouth to protest, but Mrs. Park had already stood up and was heading for the door. He rose after her, determined to follow and request a change of teacher, but then he looked past her and saw who was standing in the doorway, lounging against the wall, looking coolly at him, and he bit his tongue.

"Ah, JinAe! Jiwon here will be under your charge as of tomorrow."

The girl didn't bat an eyelid. "That's… fine, Mrs. Park. I'll be leaving now."

The older woman smiled and waved her off. "Go, go. You must be tired after the class. Get some sleep."

Jiwon tried not to watch as JinAe turned in one fluid motion, and then strangely enough, seem to pause as if in hesitation. Then he blinked, and the moment was gone, as the young female dancer slipped quietly down the hallway.

 

* * *

 

  
Stifling a yawn, Junhoe turned the key and moved quietly into the silent apartment. He dropped his weathered leather bag onto the couch and resisted the urge to follow suit, turning his steps towards the bathroom instead.

Stepping into the cubicle, he bent down and twisted the knob, plugging in the bath with his other hand as the warm water began to fill the tub. He rose and stretched, feeling the kinks in his neck and shoulders straighten out, before turning to the counter. As he reached for the bottle of nail polish remover, one silver earring banged lightly against his cheek.

 

* * *

 

 

When he opened his eyes the next day, bright afternoon sunlight was already filtering through the gaps in the powder blue curtains. His body acting on auto-pilot, he exhaled, turning away from the intruding rays, and sitting up, before swinging his feet over the side of the low bed. He glared at the clock with narrowed eyes. 9AM. He had over an hour before he was due at the studio.

The aches in his muscles had subsided, which if anything was an indication of the success of his work-out the night before. Along with that fulfilling realization however, flashed the details of the previous evening.

When Junhoe had opened the door to go outside and catch a breath of fresh air, the first person he had seen was the last person he had ever expected to see, at least, in the situation at that time. To say he had been stunned was probably an understatement. It was only after the guy's exclamation that he had been galvanized into acting his role. Luckily, Jiwon had bought it.

Then again, it was an easy thing to trust your eyes, and to follow logical reason. After all, who would believe that the calm, cool vocalist of the LG High School was a dancer? Let alone a cross-dressing dancer? He almost smiled inwardly to himself, but stomped down on the sentiment abruptly.

About a year ago, when he had decided to train other parts of his body that were not honed by singing, dancing had seemed ideal. It required a completely different set of muscles, and would not only test his coordination and adaptability, but also be a whole new challenge that was out of the usual sporting spectrum. The only problem had been that he did not want anyone to find out that he, Koo Junhoe, was learning ballroom dancing. After all, he was a male, with a male's pride!

The solution that had presented itself before his eyes when he walked past a lady's boutique had not seemed ludicrous or any such thing at that time. One, he would get his learning done under a disguise, and two, he could afford it. What was there to think about?

Needless to say, when he had finished his advance course a few months earlier and been recruited as a basic teacher, he had given in to honesty and told Mrs. Park the truth. She had been shocked, but he reassured her quickly enough that he had not disguised himself out of deceit or malicious intent, explaining the situation instead, which to his chagrin, seemed to amuse her for days on end after that. She had promised to keep his identity as it had always been, and he trusted her.

And it had worked. No one had ever realized that hr was a ballroom dancer, and an accomplished dancer at that. He had recognized some of his female schoolmates, and his schoolmates' parents at the studio; others were mothers mostly, and the occasional unwilling husband, but none of them had ever pressed the issue of his identity. It was taken for granted that dancing came more naturally for girls, and which sane female of LG High School would even give breath to the thought that Junhoe was a cross-dresser?

He had thought that his cover was blown the second he had seen Jiwon on that doorstep. Another second later and he knew that though it wasn't the case, it was going to come pretty damned close. The matter of the guy recognizing the similarity despite the hair extensions, make-up, dress and earrings was proof enough.

Considering all things, it was definitely ironical.  
It was funny, but when he had overheard Jiwon telling Mrs. Park about the annual prom, and known just why the boisterous power rapper had appeared behind the front gate of a recreation club set in just about the most inconspicuous neighborhood around, his immediate reaction had been to laugh. Thankfully, his practiced control had saved him from giving himself away then and there.

But speaking of the prom, he realized he had forgotten all about it. God knew there were truckloads of girls (and guys) out there waiting to throw themselves into his arms, and that single thought proved itself to be a devastatingly effective turn-off.

Now, by cruel karma or twisted fate, he had to teach that guy, Kim Jiwon, how to dance.

It'll only be, at the most, two weeks. Just to prom night. It's that simple.

Yes, Koo Junhoe was determined to go through this trial set before him, and emerge victorious.

 

* * *

 

  
As Jiwon walked in the door, reaching up to tug self-consciously at the collar of his gray polo shirt, he could have sworn he felt eyes on him. Then again, those same eyes could be clearly met if he would just dare to look up. As it was, he kept his gaze lowered and focused instead on the pair of slim feet encased in what looked to be nothing but a myriad of straps.

_"Oh. Dancing shoes."_

"You're late."

That voice again. His head snapped up before he could stop himself, and he met the carefully neutral gaze of his instructor.

_"It's not him, it's not him… it's not him!!!"_

He laughed nervously, running a hand through his hair, and then squeaked into silence when he realized that JinAewas not taking the bait. It took him a few moments more to realize that firstly, she was just his height in those heels, and secondly, that those slim, shapely legs had moved away from him to the other side of the room.

_"Oh my god. I am –not– noticing the legs of someone who looks and acts exactly like Koo Junhoe! And who doesn't like me one bit! I don't like her either! I don't!"_

This JinAe freaked him out. Not that he would ever admit it.

With disturbing clarity, Jiwon watched as long, slender fingers tapped quickly and professionally on the radio, turning a few buttons here and there. She wore a knee-length, cream colored dress today, and a black sweater, too large for her, hung from her shoulders. As he mentally hit himself for staring, she glanced over her shoulder at him, and he had to strain to catch her question, spoken in that soft, low voice.

"What dance would you prefer to learn first?"

He blinked, not comprehending. "Huh?" Were there so many dances to be learnt?

Half an hour into the lesson, and Junhoe regretted the vow of persistence that he had taken just earlier that morning.

Since Kim Jiwon clearly had not even the slightest idea of ballroom dancing, Junhoe had decided that they would simply have to begin with the most basic of dances: the salsa. He had never given private lessons to anyone from school before, and if there were anyone he would have expected –not– to come under his charge, it would have had to be Jiwon. Safe to conclude that he was already having enough trouble worrying about keeping up his pretense and yet…

Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that a salsa could look this bad.

"Like this?" the guy asked, grinning from ear to ear as he hopped, rugby-style, from foot to foot, only the barest resemblance to Junhoe's own steps coming through, and even that was giving grace.

_"It's all right. In my short teaching career so far, surely I have learnt patience, learnt forgiveness. Surely I have cultivated tolerance, and most definitely have I nurtured diplomacy."_

"That is absolutely disgusting."

Jiwon stopped in mid-hop, a wounded look on his face. "Well, that's why I'm the student, JinAe—"

"JinAe-shi to you," he couldn't stop himself from snapping.

"—and that's why I'm paying to learn!"

" _One, two, three, breathe… one, two, three, breathe…"_

"All right," he exhaled slowly, walking to the radio and re-starting the song. As he waited for the first strains of Ricky Martin to fill the room, Junhoe walked towards Jiwon, pretending not to notice as the guy backed away, eyeing him warily. He ignored the look of panic on the taller boy's face, stopping one arm's length away and then reaching out to seize the terrified student's chin.

"First rule, don't look down."

He held Jiwon's head in that position, then moved his hands deftly down and pushed the guy's shoulders back, noticing absentmindedly that said shoulders were broad and well-muscled.

" _Well, now. We certainly seem to be getting distracted."_

  
This observation of Jiwon's chest however, was most certainly new and even more definitely alarming.

Maybe dressing like a girl for so long has made me think like a girl.

"Second rule, always stand up straight. Think tall. Yes, like that. Now keep that posture."

He stepped back into his original position, about a foot from Jiwon, just as the music began to fill the room, echoing off the walls with the pulsing, sensuous rhythm of the Latin salsa. Koo Junhoe was determined that He. Would. Teach. Jiwon. How. To. Dance. If. It. Killed. Him. He held out his left hand, trying not to roll his eyes again at the guy's suspicious look towards the proffered limb.

"Shall we try again?"

_"God, give me strength."_

 

* * *

 

Jiwon tried to convince himself that he was extending the lesson simply because he had to improve quickly in time for the prom. When Mrs. Park had popped by earlier to see how he was doing, she had also informed JinAe that there were no other classes scheduled that day and to lock up whenever they were done. Hence, he had jumped at the opportunity to further the day's education, forking out another hour's worth of fees on the spot.

Because really, the truth of it was that dancing was turning out to be incredibly… well… addictive.

He had to admit that JinAe moved well. In fact, if he wasn't trying so hard to get his steps to look like that, he might have been able to pay more attention to the incredible hip action that she displayed, as well as the strangely captivating grace she danced with…

But, oh well.

"…back and two, forward and three, roll the right hip, step and four…"

"Wait," he stopped dead in his current twist of limbs, and pointed accusingly at the cream-clothed hip of the instructor, "How do you do that?"

An eyebrow arched at him, and he bit his lip.

"That!" he tried to explain, shaking his head in frustration, "How do you move… you know!" he tried to fight the blush that stained his cheeks, "The hip thing!"

"Ah." He thought he saw a slight twitch in her cheek. "That natural action stems from the shifting of your weight from one foot to another, but remember that you have to simultaneously –roll– the hip back like this." She put her hands on his waist, adjusting his position so that he yelped in protest at the discomfort, "Continue that figure-eight roll through and through."

He tried copying the action, but his legs refused to sidle sensuously no matter which way he –rolled–. Deep in concentration, Jiwon didn't notice when JinAe glanced up at the clock, and then walked to the radio to switch it off. He only broke out of his trance when the lights went off, engulfing him in darkness.

"That's it for today," JinAe said softly.  
  


 

* * *

 

 

 

Junhoe watched from the doorway as the tall figure trudged away. As he was about to turn to go into the studio, the figure suddenly purposefully straightened up. A small smile of amusement crept onto Junhoe's lips before he wrenched it off and spun around, letting the door close behind him.

Surprisingly, after the disastrous first hour, Jiwon had begun to improve, if not steadily then surely. Whether it was because the guy was just following his own movements, or had a previously undiscovered affinity for the arts, Jiwon had definitely been enjoying himself. And it showed, because the fiery guy had always been expressive, emotions plain writ on his face. When he was upset, one could tell, and when he was excited, one could see that too, see it in his eyes, his actions, and hear it in his loud, sometimes incredibly annoying laughter.

" _Maybe I'll get through this yet."_

He looked at the clock again. It was still early. Perhaps he would practice on his own for a while before leaving. Walking to the lesson room and flicking on the lights he had just switched off, he moved to the radio and began thumbing through the CD selection.

 

__

* * *

 

 

Grinning foolishly to himself, Jiwon replayed the steps he had learned that day in his head.

" _And a-one and two, a-three and four. Spin, spin, stop…and a-one and two."_

This was turning out to be one of the best ideas he had followed through in a long time. Due to the finals, extracurricular activities had been suspended a month before, and he had actually cared enough about this particular exam to stay at home and study for it. Which meant that he had barely gotten any exercise for close to two months now, because running around and climbing the school staircases could hardly be called an adequate replacement for the type of exertion he was used to…

A more pressing issue suddenly chose that specific time to occur to him..

" _Oh, no. Who am I going to ask?!"_

Of course, when the problem had presented itself, there was no way he could go around it like that.

No. He had to fret.

_"I could stick with the gang! But how can I do that? Me, an intelligent, good-looking eligible bachelor! It simply won't be seemly!:_

He was now deeply perturbed by this matter, which by all means should have been the most obvious and therefore given the most thought. Now what was he to do?

_"Argh…"_

 

* * *

 

[Three days later]

It was his second lesson, and he liked to think that he was making progress. The salsa steps seemed to come slightly easier, for one thing. Added to the fact that he was finding the simple waltz he was being taught fascinating. And he could actually catch the beat now. It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that when he had gone home on Saturday, he had downloaded all the songs that JinAe had played and practiced counting to them.

Nope, this small success was definitely a mark of his intrinsic intelligence.

"Don't look down!"

Jiwon yelped, his limbs splaying as he jerked back to attention. "Okay, okay!"

JinAe glowered at him from the old, cheap couch he had never noticed before, in the furthermost corner from the door. "You're not concentrating!" she rebuked him sharply.

He fought the urge to walk over and smack her. Kim Jiwon would not bully a mere girl!

"I am concentrating," he insisted feebly instead.

She snorted, then uncrossed her legs, rising to her feet.

" _Well, even if the heart is black and the mouth is foul, the legs are amazing."_ Jiwon thought dully to himself.

"Since you are obviously incapable of coordinating yourself, I will partner you throughout the whole sequence instead of standing beside you and giving you the exact steps. This time, you will have to work out the mirror image, but it should—thank God—be easier for you to actually move in time with the music."

"You don't have to be so sarcastic, you know." It slipped out of the guy's mouth before he could stop to think, and immediately, he clamped his hands over his lips, horrified as a feeling of intense doom settled in the pit of his stomach..

Strangely enough, JinAe chose to ignore that particular lapse.

Instead, the dark-haired dancer moved to the radio table. Muttering under her breath, she adjusted a few settings with familiar ease before walking to the middle of the room.

"Come here."

" _Who is she to order the genius around like this?"_ he thought glumly, shuffling his feet towards the intended spot. As a hand came up to his face, he ducked automatically, a growl rising to his throat. "What are you doing?!"

JinAe did not look amused as she let her hand fall back, and it was only then that he realized she had formed some sort of a box with her arms, her right hand extended up with its palm facing him, and her left arm curving around.

"This is your basic position in partner dancing, since I assume you are not taking up these lessons for solo performances."

He felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment for his reaction, because when she put it that way, it did seem kind of obvious, looking just about like some of the dancers he vaguely recalled seeing on television once. Of course at that time he had hardly paid attention to them.

He tried to move backwards as unobtrusively as possible, wanting to regain his comfort zone before attempting the box action. Awkwardly, he brought his arms up and tried to position them in the same way, then remembered that it was supposed to be a mirror image. Hesitantly, he switched the handhold and then stopped abruptly, not sure about what to do next.  
"I'm your partner now, Kim Jiwon, not your video instruction manual. Contrary to what you might believe, the hands of both parties involved actually come into contact, and not remain a distance away from each other."

" _Reeeeeally now? I hadn't noticed!" He could feel his face flaming._

They stood there silently, looking at each other for what seemed to be an indefinite amount of time, a scowl on his face and a neutral expression on hers all the while. After about five minutes of non-activity however, when it became apparent that he wasn't just steeling himself to try but was just going to stand there imitating marble, JinAe sighed heavily.

And then reached for him.

 

 


	2. Getting To Know You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little information goes a long way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm beginning to doubt myself if I should continue this. Hahahahahaha. Ballroom dancing is so hard! Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

_"Remember what she said. Take a deep breath and listen to the beat…one and-two, three and-four… follow the beat… first bar introduction, second bar start_!"

  
Jiwon plunged forward and stepped on JinAe's toes.

" _Oops. Wrong foot."_

The murderous glare directed at him was almost enough to make him afraid, had it not been for the other, sudden, stronger urge…

To just sit down and giggle at the expression on JinAe's face.

She's actually kind of pretty.

He cleared his throat. "Um, I'm sorry."

"Just… follow my lead for now," came the clipped reply.

Still fighting the inane desire to laugh, he straightened and set the position, trying to relax as JinAe had instructed. She eyed him suspiciously for a moment more, and he realized his less-than aboveboard intentions must have been written on his face. Quickly, he wiped the mirth from his features, biting his lip in an effort to contain a smile. She stepped forward, sliding into his handhold, her left arm curved around his right shoulder and her palm, cool and confident, held his left hand securely.

" _Is he –laughing– at me?"_

Junhoe fumed inwardly at the telltale tugging of one corner of the other's mouth as the latter looked pointedly around the vicinity of Junhoe's ear.

" _God. He –is– laughing at me!"_

Determined not to let it get to him, Junhoe tuned out to Jiwon's not-so-subtle snickering and focused his attention on the music instead.

I'll give you something to laugh about, he thought grimly.

"And a one, two, a three and four…"

He moved back, leading the other to forward and –stumbling– oh-so accidentally, letting the stiletto heel of his suede shoe stab into Jiwon's foot.

Score one for me, he triumphed, as Jiwon yelped in surprise and pain. His eyes widened, however, as the other boy automatically let go of him to grab the injured foot.

" _Oh, shit."_

His legs tangled beneath him, and he tripped for real this time, falling ungracefully as he lost his balance. The floor was coming closer… closer…

 

* * *

 

[ ** _Friday_** ]

From one of the tables in the canteen usually reserved for the popular cliques of girls, a few pairs of eyes followed the tall senior as he grabbed his tray from the canteen vendor and sped down the aisles to join his usual gang.

"I'll just bet Kim Jiwon doesn't have a date for the prom," one of the girls, a petite second-year with dyed bluish hair, remarked disdainfully.

"Yea, you're right. Look at him! Who would want to go with him?"

"He's loud—"

"And rude—"

"He's a gangster with no self-restraint!"

There were nods all around the table in agreement.

"I don't think he can even dance," a clear voice commented, and laughter rang out to that.

"Don't make me laugh, Yumi!"

"That's a terrible joke to have me suffer through while I'm trying to eat, Yumi!"

The tall, shapely cheerleader looked around at her friends, smiling lopsidedly, then leaned forward and grinned at her friends. "I think I know just how to teach him a lesson."

As the bell signaling the end of the last class rang, Junhoe rose from his seat, grabbing his bag and slinging it onto his shoulder before making his way out of class, ignoring the wistful glances from the girls. With the upcoming prom at stake, his admirers seemed to have gotten bolder, judging from the larger than usual pile of letters that had fallen out of his locker that morning.

Well, at least they were expressing themselves through prose and nothing more. He didn't feel particularly inclined to grouse that blessing.

He could still feel the ache in his arm, courtesy of the large bruise that had formed on his elbow from the fall he had taken during Jiwon's second lesson. At that reminder, his face grew dark.

" _Dumb idiot."_

The events of two days earlier replayed themselves in his head.

 

* * *

 

* ** _Flashback_** *

  
The floor was coming closer…closer…

Jiwon finally noticed that his instructor was on a crash course with the parquet. Eyes widened and a screech escaped the taller boy as he lunged forward, meaning to catch JinAe.

However, the force of his goodwill had a different idea entirely. He missed her arm, swiping at empty air and losing his own balance in the process. Vaguely, he noticed as JinAe gasped, twisting away so that he would not fall fully on her body, slamming her elbow painfully into the ground instead as she made contact with a solid 'thunk'.

He fell across her legs instead; landing with an 'oomph' as the breath was knocked out of him. His head met the ground in an unprecedented kowtow, and he groaned aloud. And then he noticed the position they were in.

JinAe was staring at him, eyes wide in shock. Her skirt had been hiked up to the middle of her thighs, just barely managing to preserve her modesty from his view at her feet. His right arm had somehow snaked in between her calves as he landed, and his shirt had moved up so that it exposed flesh.

The apologies he had been meaning to babble died away as he looked at JinAe. Pale cheeks were beginning to turn an interesting hue of crimson, and her mouth opened but no words came out. Jiwon didn't seem to be particularly vocal himself, his own ears hot with blushing as he froze, willing his eyes not to drop anywhere below her neck.

"Get off."

Her voice was slightly unsteady, and held the faintest vestiges of outrage that would probably increase in the next few moments. Jiwon obeyed instantly, scuttling away and pushing back from her, mindful of the fact that any time now he would be dutifully, vocally, painfully punished.

God, I just sat on my dance instructor.

The ensuing silence stretched between them. She swallowed heavily, and then made to rise, pulling her skirt down as she stood, dusting away the material. As she moved to adjust the dress, her left arm stilled, and a small grimace crossed her face before she realized he was watching her.

"Are… are you okay, JinAe?"

She blinked at him, surprised at the sudden, tentative question.

He looked away, surprised to realize that he cared.

* ** _End of Flashback_** *

 

* * *

  
  
" _He actually sounded concerned..."_ Junhoe mused. _"Maybe… maybe he –was– really sorry. Even though it was my fault for stepping on him."_

It was infinitely confusing to bear witness to the conflicting dynamos of thaymt particular boy.

But concern?

He knew Jiwon had been trying to catch him as he fell. It was an incredibly alien gesture to him notwithstanding the Samaritan involved. And the question, when Jiwon had asked him if he was all right, had downright shocked him. The query had been tremulous but sincere.

Junhoe pushed the doubts in his mind away. He didn't have time to spend thinking about Jiwon's unreasonable mood swings. Another week and things would go back to exactly the way they were before.

He made his way to the gym for his P.E class, where from within, the sounds of basketballs swishing smoothly against hoops could already be heard.

 

* * *

 

 

Yumi patted down her uniform, making sure that her blouse was opened just right and that her skirt was exactly four inches above her knees. She caught sight of her reflection on the plastic cover of the notice board on the wall pertaining to the gym, and couldn't resist smiling at herself in satisfaction.

 

[ ** _Earlier in the canteen_** ]

  
"So what's the plan, Yumi?"

"Yes, tell us, quick!"

She folded her hands primly in her lap and winked at her friends. "We all know that Jiwon is always calling himself a genius, right? Well, I've got the perfect thing to show him up."

"I'll ask him to the dance…I'm sure no girl in their right mind would ask –him– so it's a safe bet that he'll accept—"

"But I thought you were going with Suho!"

The blond cheerleader gave the interrupter a –look–. "Of course I am! But Jiwon doesn't know that!"

"Oh… yeah."

"So like I was –saying–, I'll ask Jiwon to the dance! And I have it on credible sources that one of this year's student hosts is Park Jaewon, the football captain! He'd be more than happy to help us play the prank… of announcing Kim Jiwon as prom king!"

Six pairs of eyes blinked at her.

"So?"

"Um… why would you want that… ugh… irritating fellow to be prom king?"

Yumi rolled her eyes and threw up her hands. "Don't you see? When he's crowned, he'll have to do the honorary dance! But," she laughed, tapping the table for emphasis, "I won't be there! I'll be with Suho! And we'll be the real prom king and queen after that man makes a fool of himself with nobody to dance with! If he even –can– move his feet properly, anyway!"

Titters resounded around the table.

"That's brilliant!"

"What a show!"

"I can't wait to see the look on his silly face!"

 

[ ** _Present_** ]

So here she was, outside the gym, ready to carry out her plan. Jiwon's P.E subject had probably just started. Calculating just how to make the best entrance, she finally settled for simply pulling open the doors, banking on the sunlight to make the golden highlights in her hair shine and illuminate her tan skin.

Almost every head in the gym turned as she waltzed in, sure and confident. The only one oblivious to her was Koo Junhoe, standing in a corner and pulling his practice jersey on.

" _My god… what a babe he is. Too bad I'm already going with Suho, or I'd take Junhoe for sure."_

Back to the plan. She tore her eyes away from Junhoe's sculpted torso and spotted her target immediately. She just managed to restrain from giggling as she bounded over to the owner of the flaming red hair. " _Don't laugh, it'll give the game away"._

"Good afternoon, Jiwon!"

The guy peered at her quizzically. He moved to the right, behind her, to her left, and then faced her again, examining her face. She nearly throttled him, but kept the megawatt smile plastered on her face. "Jiwon?"

"Who are you?"

" _Leave it to him!"_ She thought sourly, sorely affronted that not only did he not recognize her, but he also gave no acknowledgement to her beauty.  _"I suppose I can't expect much from a loud-mouthed idiot."_

"My name is Yumi," she said sweetly, casting her eyes coyly down and willing herself to blush, "I've… I've been watching you for a long time."

Jaws dropped around the gym.

"And… I really admire you, Jiwon!"

" _My, my, I ought to receive an Oscar, even if I do say so myself."_

"Oh!" the boy laughed heartily, suspicions forgotten as he dropped the basketball and scratched his head sheepishly. "So, you are one of this genius's fans!"

She resisted the urge to barf, batting her lashes prettily instead and nodding demurely, as if shy. "Well… actually… I wanted to ask you…"

He looked at her expectantly, innocently, and Yumi felt the disdain welling up inside her again. _"Why did he have to be such a –baby–?"_

"… I wanted to ask you to the dance," she finished softly, pretending to look down at her hands while noting Jiwon's expression out of the corner of her eye. He looked stunned, happy, proud and then hesitant all at once.

" _Oh, no, don't you back out!"_

"It would mean so much to me," she purred, moving closer to him. "Please, Jiwon? Would you take me to the prom?"

"Well…"

" _Say yes, you dimwit, how long are you going to force me to make a fool of myself standing here like this before you?!"_

"I suppose I could," he finished, grinning happily from ear to ear.

" _Aha."_

A bright orange basketball whizzed its way in between them, slamming neatly into Jiwon's chest and knocking him momentarily off balance. From the side, a tall shadow loomed, and Yumi turned angrily to scold whomever it was who had cut in so rudely…

…And promptly swooned.

"Idiot. Get back to practice."

"Shut up, Junhoe! I'm busy!"

"Pft." A slim, long-fingered hand reached down to retrieve the basketball.

_"Junhoe is a –god–",_  her mind chattered happily, processing the fresh, citrus cologne and well-defined shoulders, how his silky black hair fell across his face, how those lazy eyes looked out from underneath those long eyelashes, his powerful arms…wait.

She let out a small, artificial gasp. "Junhoe! What happened to your arm! Does it hurt?" She reached out to touch the blue-black bruise on the vocalist' left arm… and was rudely shocked as Junhoe spun around and walked away quickly before she could say any more about it.

" _God… he is –so– sexy."_

Next to her, Jiwon's brow was furrowed, and he murmured something that sounded vaguely like, "That's strange…"

She bounced back in front of him, beaming. "So, are we settled then, Jiwon?"

"Eh? Oh! Oh, yes…yes, it's settled then."

" _Good_ ," her mind snickered as she flashed one last bright smile at the redhead before walking away, " _Because you're in for it now, Kim Jiwon"_

 

* * *

  
" _He's making the connection, oh shit, he knows, he knows."_

He could practically hear the gears clicking in Jiwon's head. Stifling his panic before it could become visible and making sure his face was frozen in its usual expressionless mask, Junhoe dribbled the ball back and forth, steadfastly refusing to even face the boy's direction as he mock-challenged a second-year, only half paying attention. He could feel Jiwon's eyes on his back, and very nearly swallowed his tongue in his mental cursing.

" _Stupid, stupid bimbo of a girl… can't keep her big mouth shut…"_

"Be careful where you throw that ball," he instructed the junior monotonously, hoping his voice could be heard over the general bustle. "Or you'll end up giving me another bruise."

" _Please take the bait, take the bait, take it, take it…"_

"Ah? Did I hit you earlier, Junhoe? I'm so sorry!"

He sensed more than saw Jiwon relax after hearing those words as the he turned away and bent to pick up the ball he had been practicing with earlier before that annoying female had disrupted things. The feeling of being watched vanished, and he heaved an inward sigh of relief.

" _Damn. That was close… way too close."_

 

  
[ ** _The next day_** ]

 

As Jiwon strode merrily towards the neighborhood he had come to think of as a second home in recent days, he slung his carry-on bag over his shoulder, whistling his trademark tune. He could feel the smile on his face beginning to hurt; for an inexplicable reason, he was feeling extraordinarily happy that day.

Maybe it was the fact that he had a date to the annual prom, even if he had never seen that girl before this. The point still stood, however, that he was popular enough that the junior students wanted to be seen with him! While Jiwon did not pay much attention to the ordinary female, he was still human enough to be pleased at being admired.

Another face suddenly appeared in his mind, a fair face streaked with a fiery blush, and bold, challenging brown eyes.

" _JinAe? Why am I thinking about JinAe?"_

There was something about the girl that made him feel funny inside, and that was not counting the fact that she looked exactly like the one person he had made himself think of as his mortal enemy for three years past. Junhoe did absolutely nothing to warrant the godlike popularity and worship that the population chose to bestow upon him; the man was cold, unappreciative as hell and perpetually rude in his unflattering silence.

In that way, JinAe seemed to be exactly the same. She wasn't sweet, shy and she hardly appeared the sheltered innocent. Rather, her glares, abrupt instructions and frigid temper reminded him so strongly of Junhoe that it was unsettling. Even her hands, when pressed to his own and while leading him in the dance moves, spoke of authority and calm indifference to everything not related to whatever it was she was doing at that moment.

The worse part of the whole situation was probably that he found it attractive.

" _Back up just one second, Kim Jiwon. You –like– being trod upon, ordered around and pulled about?"_

The sounds of a basketball slamming against a backboard snapped him out of his reverie, and he looked up, startled to hear a familiar laugh and a muffled groan.

" _What's the Smiley doing here? And who's that with him?"_

Curiosity stoked, he listened for the telltale laughter again and then switched directions, prowling towards the shaded playground that he hadn't really noticed before. Stepping closer, he began to make out the words in that cheerful, smooth voice characteristic of Kim Hanbin.

"I'm so sorry! It was an accident I swear… are you hurt?!"

"…What if I said yes?"

"Ah, that would pose a million different possibilities for me to make it up to you."

A low chuckle in answer, followed by the sound of a whack. "God, Hanbin, is it possible for you to utter even one sentence without sounding suggestive?"

"Hey, that's the way you think. I plead my innocence."

"Mmhmm."

With a yell, Jiwon jumped out of the bushes just as Hanbin, the latter's back to him, leaned forward. Shocked, the guy jumped back, a strangled sound coming from his throat as he turned to face the intruder, at the same time revealing the identity of his mysterious counterpart…

"YUNHYEONG?!"

"You've got the wrong person," fire blossoming in his cheeks.

"WERE YOU NUZZLING HIS SHOULDER?"

"No!" Hanbin cut in hurriedly, moving in front of Yunhyeong to smile at Jiwon. "I was just… um… just…checking his hair! Yes, that's it, I was checking his hair! For dust!"

The brunette's head bobbed furiously in agreement from behind.

Jiwon blinked and scratched his head. "Oh well, I must have been mistaken. What are you two doing here?"

"Basketball!" they chorused together, as Yunhyeong looked around frantically for the orange ball which seemed to have disappeared, trying to show the evidence for that particular claim. When that failed, he turned back to Jiwon, his smile beginning to appear a tad strained. "And what about you, Jiwon? What are you doing here?"

"I was just going to walt—" he clapped his hands over his mouth just in time. It was supposed to be a secret! And he had nearly thoughtlessly given it away!

At his audience's quizzical look, it was the latter's turn to flush.

"Nothing! I was just going to… to wa… to WALK!" he glanced surreptitiously at his watch as he tried to think of a way to stall, but forgot it as he read the time. His eyes bogged out. "Oh, no! I'm late!"

"JinAe is going to –kill– me."

He sped off without a backward glance, leaving behind two relieved people in his wake.

For a while, there was silence except for the chirping of the crickets, and then…

"Checking my hair for –dust–, Hanbin?"

 

* * *

 

 

"And—heads up—one, two, three, one, two, three…"

Precisely on the beat, Jiwon stepped back, remembering to keep his back straight this time. His feet, moving automatically in the sequence he had practiced last night in his room amidst a shower of CDs and dirty laundry, stepped in accordance with JinAe as she steered him lightly in a basic box-step.

There was one thing about ballroom that he still found acutely uncomfortable with though: the sheer proximity of his partner.

JinAe had explained briefly what they were to do before she had started teaching him, and one of the necessary things to do was actually to keep the right hip in contact with your partner's right hip so that the mirror image movements would be smooth and synchronized. It had sounded easy enough while it was being talked about.

Now, so close to JinAe, the thoughts he had had of her earlier came back in full force. She was there, her fresh smell strangely intoxicating and heady, the warmth of her nearness under his hands.

" _CON-CEN-TRATE…I WILL CON-CEN-TRATE…"_

He forced himself to look past the steady gaze that seemed centered on his face, focusing instead on the potted plant peeking out from behind the glass of the window.

 

* * *

 

  
The boy was trying so hard to keep to the rhythm (and managing remarkably well for a beginner) that Junhoe could see the slight veins in his forehead throb. It was almost… cute.

Junhoe bit down on his tongue just in time to stop the corners of his mouth from tugging up.

" _I would never have imagined the day that Kim Jiwon could make me smile. I must be having a fever."_

The soft chimes of Appassionata flowed through the room softly, almost tangibly. Held surprisingly securely, Junhoe pulled Jiwon forward into yet another variation of the basic step. As they whirled around the room together, the strains of the music starting to die down, he could have sworn that Jiwon was trying to look at him out of the corner of his eye. But every time Junhoe tried to meet the other's gaze, the boy would turn away and focus somewhere behind.

Any other time, any other place, any other reality, this would actually be romantic, he mused absentmindedly, slightly miffed with the fact that he was playing catch-my-eye with Kim Jiwon, of all people. He felt one side of the large, oversized sweater he was wearing to conceal his torso slip slightly over his shoulder, exposing his collarbone to the cool air-conditioner. Automatically, he shivered, just as the last notes faded away.

"That was pretty good," Junhoe finally commented, keeping his tone even. It was hard to, with Jiwon finally meeting his gaze directly but with a strange look in his eyes.

" _Now what's that idiot thinking?"_

"Are you cold?" Jiwon asked abruptly, sliding out of the handhold and turning around, walking to the door. Halfway there, he spun back to face Junhoe, who had frozen in shock at the inordinately tender voice that the question had been phrased in. "Come on. Let's go outside for a while."

With remarkable composure, Junhoe recovered his voice almost immediately.

"We can't. You're paying for this lesson time."

Jiwon grinned at him and shrugged. "I know. Hurry up already."

What was there to do but comply?

A few minutes later, they sat, perched next to each other on the doorstep of the studio, not looking at each other.

"Is it warmer here?"

Junhoe didn't quite know how to reply. He settled for the truth. "Yes," and then found it harder to add the next part of what he wanted to say. He said it nevertheless. "Thanks."

Jiwon's lips curved up in a smile. "No problem. So, how long have you been dancing?"

Junhoe paused, not sure if he should let this conversation continue. Was this a getting-to-know-you session? If it was, he wasn't entirely certain that it was a good idea. How long would it be before he accidentally gave himself away?

"I don't want to pry," Jiwon added quickly. "I'm just curious."

" _He's reading my mind."_

"About one year now," he replied softly.

_"I should stop this."_

"Are you still studying? I mean, ha, you don't look all that old for a teacher, you know?"

" _Should I tell the truth?"_

"I'm… I'm a senior in high school."

"Really? That's awesome! Me too!"

" _I know, idiot."_ He resisted the strange urge to smile again.

"Hmm… what school are you in?"

Flashbulbs of panic exploded behind Junhoe's eyes. " _Damn it. What school am I from?"_

"YG High."

Jiwon laughed loudly, slapping his hands on his knees. "Oh! Then you must have known Kim Hanbin! He graduated last year!"

"Not personally." He hoped his reply was short enough to hint that the conversation was over.

"Well, I'll tell you a secret! You know how that Smiley is such a pervert with everyone? It's just a show, man."  
Junhoe raised an eyebrow.

Jiwon grinned at him comically. "Yep! And I know from firsthand experience because I saw him and Song Yunhyeong—you know, one of our classmates and my friend—at the playground around here earlier. And…" he paused for dramatic effect, "They were kissing!"

**_Blink. Blink._ **

"Excuse me?" he asked, not sure that he had heard correctly. Jiwon laughed again, putting a finger to his lips and half-rising, looking around mock-theatrically as if either Hanbin or Yunhyeong would pop out of nowhere any instant.

"Don't tell anyone. They don't know that I've got them figured out. How come you came all the way over here to dance when you're studying so far away?"

" _Careful, Junhoe, careful, you're stepping on thin ice."_

 "I moved to this neighborhood in my second year and found this place. I didn't want to change schools, that's all."

"So you live just right nearby?"

Junhoe bit his lip; the lies seemed to be spinning out of control.

Jiwon must have read his hesitation in volunteering further information, because the boy stood and stretched nonchalantly, as if the question hadn't been asked. He turned around and smiled down at his instructor.

"Anyway. Can we get back to dancing? I think I've warmed up enough."

Junhoe automatically took the hand that was offered to him, using the support as leverage as he rose. In that split second, he realized what he had done at the same moment as Jiwon, who blushed and let go quickly, turning hurriedly around to push open the door of the studio.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you spot that little side ship that I love? uwu. Hahahaha


	3. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dream doesn't become reality through magic; it takes sweat, determination and hard work. ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ typos and grammar lapses may appear ]

**_._ **

**_._ **

**_[Tuesday]_ **

"Yo, Jiwon!"

The imposing figure by the lockers turned around, and Donghyuk blinked as he walked up to his friend. Was it his imagination, or had the guy become taller? "The gang and I are going to check out the new pool place in the next district after school today. Want to come?"

"Huh? Today?"

"Yes, today," Donghyuk replied firmly. "The last two weeks of school spent doing nothing, and I haven't seen much of you after class hours at all! Where have you been?"

Jiwon grinned. "Ah, Donghyuk! That is the genius's secret! But you will find out what it is soon."

Donghyuk blinked. "A secret?" he pursed his lips and studied his friend doubtfully. "Are you sure it's not anything illegal?"

"Ha, ha, very funny."

The blond-haired boy shrugged. He would find out what it was sooner or later. "So are you joining us later?"

Jiwon shook his head regretfully. "Got things to do. But tell me all about the new pool place when you've checked it out, okay? Anyway, got to run!" He fled down the corridor, leaving a bemused and thoughtful Donghyuk looking after him.

_"Things to do? That's new."_

Actually, that's downright strange.

Which was how Donghyuk and Yunhyeong ended up following Jiwon after school.

He seemed extraordinarily cheerful, whistling loudly and swinging his bag this way and that as he made his way down a side lane, moving towards one of the housing estates that Donghyuk had never paid much attention to before. Come to think of it, this neighborhood was actually quite close to their school, but it was set a little way apart from the main street, which made it a lot quieter and inconspicuous than the other estates around.

"I'm sorry to make you come along with me like this," he whispered apologetically to his friend, who had a leaf stuck in his thick brown hair as they peered after the guy from behind the bushes along the sidewalk.

Yunhyeong smiled at him. "It's okay. I know you're worried that he's in trouble."

Donghyuk shrugged. "I'm having second thoughts. He looks perfectly fine."

Jiwon disappeared behind a corner, and they scrambled to their feet to follow.

 

* * *

 

In the washroom, Junhoe just barely managed to put the finishing pins on the hair extensions when the door to the studio burst open and he heard a familiar voice greet a booming, cheerful hello to Mrs. Park. Why had he agreed to schedule this lesson time? It was barely an hour since school had ended, and he had had to rush here in a cab when the last bell had gone.

Oh, right. It was because YG had ended its school term the week before, and Jiwon had jumped at the chance that his instructor would be free and available after his own school hours.

In any case, at least he had had the time for a quick bath. He checked that his LG uniform and badge were packed securely in the white plastic bag, before bending to put the items into his carry-on. As he straightened, he checked the mirror one last time, critically.

"JinAe?"

_"Just a bit more, and it'll be over."_

It hit him with a pang, that he would actually miss this.

"JinAe? Are you all right in there?"

When Jiwon wasn't looking down on him like an enemy, when he himself wasn't looking at the biy like he thought he had known him all along, everything was different. Junhoe admitted that. His conscience had plagued him, all through his waking hours to his dreams. Bringing him back to the moments when Jiwon had tried to catch him and stop him from falling. When Jiwon had held out a hand to help him up. The voice normally raised to Junhoe in shouting now lowered in concern. The broad, natural smile that inexplicably upturned the corners of his own mouth and fill his heart in a strange, touching way.

"JinAe!"

He jolted to reality, cursing himself under his breath for losing track of himself. "I'm coming out," he called through clenched teeth, reaching down and swiping up his bag.

As he stepped into the lesson room, Jiwon noticed that one of the three lights had blown, making the place dimmer and appearing somehow smaller. Yet, it felt warm and strangely cosy at the same time. He had never taken a good look at this room before, because the mirror that made up one wall had always seemed intimidating. Some of his silliest movements had been recorded on that glass, and he grinned to remember those moments.

He realized that he was trying to distract himself.  
Only when the door to the washroom opened, and he saw that familiar face, did Jiwon reluctantly admit that he had missed her.

Her hair looked damp, probably from a shower she had taken before coming. She looked slightly flustered, and her eyes appeared brighter than ever against her flushed skin. He rose to his feet, coming forward and reaching out gallantly to take the heavy-looking leather bag from her hands.

"It's all right," she snapped, shifting the bag so that it banged against her hip. And then JinAe bit her lip, looking down and appearing, weirdly enough, guilty. "I can carry it myself," she mumbled.

He shrugged. "No problem. Can we start?"

She brushed past him, gesturing that she was going to put her bag away and nudging him pointedly towards the middle of the room, indicating that he should go through the steps first. Pathetically enough, all he could think about at that sharp, short contact was how fragrant that wet black hair seemed.

His heart was pounding peculiarly as Junhoe headed back towards the lesson room. Predictably enough, it had to do with the earlier accident of Jiwon offering help with his bag, and then the brief contact between them as he had walked out to place his things under the counter.

As he entered the room, Jiwon looked up with a smile. "All set?"

Junhoe squashed the feeling of panic as the boy walked towards him. He didn't think he could deal with the waltz today… Jiwon's touch was sending crazy, indefinable sensations through his body. Making his balance fluctuate.

He stepped back abruptly.

"We'll do the slow mambo today."

She seemed different. As if she was trying to avoid him, of which she was managing brilliantly. Unbidden, the thought came to him.

_"Don't do this…I want it to be like it was the last time."_

He pushed the errant words away and tried to focus on going through the steps JinAe was outlining. The simplified, slow mambo was a simple variation of the salsa, and he found that he could actually turn his hips correctly now. Back and close. Front and close. Step and spin, side and close.

Of course, JinAe could still accomplish it more smoothly.

  
The music for this particular dance felt almost lazy, winding through his hearing and wrapping around his body. He caught on quickly enough, and than spontaneously stepped around so that he was facing JinAe instead of them standing side by side. He held out his hand.

Her eyes widened at the unspoken challenge, but neither of them broke the beat or the sequence of steps even as she stared at him. Slowly, her hand rose to take his offered one.

"You look really pretty today." The words were out before he could stop them. Amazingly enough, he didn't feel embarrassed at what he was saying.

It seemed natural.

**_You're just too good to be true._ **   
**_Can't take my eyes off you._ **   
**_You'd be like heaven to touch._ **   
**_I want to hold you so much._ **

He could see that JinAe had turned pink even in the dimmer surroundings. She averted her face, letting the black hair fall over her eyes, and her mouth opened, but he couldn't hear anything. Unconsciously, his arm curved more securely around her slim waist, pulling her closer. She radiated heat under his hands.

_**Pardon the way that I stare.** _   
_**There's nothing else to compare.** _   
_**The sight of you leaves me weak.** _   
_**There are no words left to speak.** _

"Thanks." Her voice was a choked whisper from beneath the curtain of her fringe.

Junhoe cursed the lighting. It was impeding his judgement and normally correct senses. It was making him turn to jelly in the very embrace he had tried to escape, and it was making him see things he shouldn't see.

Things like how Jiwon's eyes sparkled, a twinkle in those mahogany depths. Things like how the slow smile that curved those red, red lips seemed inviting and sensuous at all once. Things like the strong hands that held him, suddenly guiding him in the dance instead. He remembered what he had told Jiwon the first day the boy had come for class.

_"The men always lead. Remember that."_

Apparently, the boy –did– remember.

Junhoe , used to being in charge and retaining that authority, now watched helplessly as it slipped uncontrollably out of his hands.

 

* * *

 

  
"This is the local recreation club, it seems. But there's another sign here too! Hmm… it says 'Park Dance Studio', Donghyuk."

Dark eyes met brown ones for a long second.

"No way. Not possible."

"Jiwon is learning how to da—?!" His gasp of surprise was quickly stifled by her friend's hand over her mouth.

"Shush! He might hear us!"

He nodded solemnly and he let him go, turning instead to look at the faintly gaudy rose and beige building.

 

* * *

 

Friday morning, the last day of school for the year, found the general population of LG High School missing from class. The occasional breeze whispered sadly along the empty halls and peeked into the strangely quiet locker rooms, bypassing the abandoned canteen for its non-activity.

Everyone was at home preparing for the dance, buying various flowers or dresses or shoes or tuxedos, and doing the things that people did before proms.

Well, almost everyone, that is. In a messy bachelor's pad, unread textbooks lay forgotten in a corner behind a large chair that had been oh-so-accidentally put there, and the blueberry curtains flapped open in the early wind, oblivious to the blanket-wrapped body underneath a huge cotton white pillow.

_It was a brilliant night. The glitter of the painfully large disco ball in the middle of the gym winked an iridescent shower of colors, and the air was filled with murmuring, laughter and chatter. He stepped into the fray, and something brushed against his hand. Looking down, he saw to his utter horror that he was clothed in a shiny green spandex and black lace dress shirt, tucked into fuschia pants._

_Suddenly, he was holding a glass, filled with punch the color of rubies. He stared suspiciously at the glittering specks inside the liquid, feeling indescribable warmth flood his veins. Yes, red was the color of roses; red was the color of—_

_A heavy tap on his shoulder made him whirl around, and he caught sight of a flash of scarlet curls under a pristine white veil. A silly grin spread across his face as he set the glass down and moved forward, bringing his hands up to lift the veil, his heart thumping as the action slowly revealed the dark, tanned, beautiful face of…_

_Yang Hyun Suk._

_"Run five hundred laps!" the headmaster thundered._

Junhoe jolted awake, severely traumatized. His heart was palpitating furiously as he sat up and gasped for breath, grabbing the sheets and twisting them in his sweaty palms.

"God." That was horrible. Horrible, horrible, horrible.

He slid out from between the covers, walking quickly outside to the counter that served as a kitchen. His hands still shaking, he poured himself a glass of cold water, throwing his head back and downing the contents of the entire container in one gulp. The cool water soothed his parched throat, clearing away the last cobwebs in his head as he calmed down marginally, leaning against the counter and exhaling deeply.

Setting the glass down, he stumbled drowsily towards the balcony, squinting at the bright sunlight that peeked out from behind the drapes. Could it be noon already? He had scheduled a private lesson with Mrs. Park today, because she was still the expert after all. In fact, the lessons he conducted with the beginners stemmed from the very basics Mrs. Park had taught him, and now, she choreographed his more challenging dances and corrected his techniques, refining them and his "dancing temperament", as she was fond of saying.

His mind nagged at him, telling him that there was something else he was forgetting.

What day is it today?

Oh, right. It was tonight, the prom. He would have taken the opportunity to stay in the whole day and sleep, really, but the memories of the dream haunted him cheekily from the recesses of his sleep-fogged mind.

_"Hmmm. Should I go?"_

He didn't feel like going. Much. There were only so many things you could do at a high school prom, and there were only so many people you didn't mind seeing, let alone the people you actually wanted to see.

Jiwon would be there, though, together with that silly cackling twit from the cheerleading squad. He extinguished the dull twinge in his heart as he set the glass down and turned to go back to his room.

I wonder if he's really going to show off. The thought made Junhoe smirk inwardly as he opened the closet, grabbing out a random change of clothes and nearly stumbling over a hairbrush on his way to the bathroom. Dumb idiot.

He considered his options as he made his way towards the bathroom, flicking on the heater switch. Closing the door, he set the clothes down, stripping off his perspiration-drenched shirt and boxers and stepping into the shower adjacent to the bathtub.

He could stay at home, of course, avoiding the barrage of his female (and male) admirers, risk falling asleep, and take the chance of letting their headmaster's face show up in his head again.

Or he could just go after his dance class. Go there, see how his boisterous protégé was faring on the dance floor, take a drink, and mingle around with the walls.

It was an easy choice.

 

* * *

 

After his shower, Jiwon tossed the towel into the overflowing laundry basket at the corner of the room, shrugging on a pair of ragged looking track pants and grabbing an orange plastic comb. He was halfway to the other end of the room where the dresser was when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Jiwon!!"

He winced at the shrill, grating voice that blasted through the speakers, automatically holding the phone two inches away. When he judged the reverberations to be over, he gingerly replaced the handset to his ear.

"Yumi. Good morning."

She laughed merrily, beginning to chatter about her dress. Jiwon unsuccessfully tried to pay dutiful attention, but his mind was occupied on something else. Namely, the lingering traces of a dream he had had the night before.  
  
 _It was dark, but it wasn't cold. In fact, as he raised his head and opened his eyes, the glittering spotlights that flashed colors from green to blue to red and yellow gave the place a comfortable, fuzzy feeling._

_The music playing softly in the background was an old song that he recognized was by Bonnie Tyler. He felt strangely detached, letting the smooth voice of the vocalist wash over him like water._

_I need you now tonight, and I need you more than ever_   
_If you'll only hold me tight, we'll be holding on forever_   
_We'll only be making it right, 'cause we'll never be wrong_   
_Together_

_He was holding someone. Warm breath tickled his ear, and he pulled back a little trying to get a closer look of who it was, but it was too dark and he gave up, moving forward and cradling the slim body tighter. They swayed, lost in another universe where the world was an unending rainbow of changing colors, and the rich crescendos of the music swallowed them up in a tireless rhythm…_

_And then they were apart, and he could see clearly who it was as she stood there, staring at him. Long black hair curled softly past her shoulders, and delicately lined eyes, the very epitome of ice, looked back at him, his face at first, and then deliberately falling to sweep his chest, his arms, his body._

_"…JinAe?"_

_Oddly, suddenly, the black hair began to shorten, and the eyes lost some of their make-up. Dangling silver earrings disappeared. The loose lavender gown morphed into a familiar school uniform and a familiar boy._

And that was when he had woken up, the name of that person on his lips. He had rushed into the bathroom, giving himself the coldest shower of his life as he tried to sort out a mixture of horror, shock, panic and plain confusion.

_"What's wrong with me?"_ He groaned silently, vaguely aware that Yumi was still talking to herself on the line. _"As if it's not enough that I can't get JinAe out of my head, now that person has to join in too!"_

He had stared into the bathroom mirror, water dampening his hair as it fell messily over his forehead, and finally admitted to his reflection that, yes, maybe he did have a bit of an attraction to the quiet dance teacher. She was pretty, she was talented in dancing, she was independent and she was… well… nice. Not nice in the way that most girls were, or like everybody was. No, it was more of something that he could sense. It was in her eyes, in the way she stood, in the way she no longer crossed her arms defensively over her chest in his presence. It was the way her mouth would turn up at the corners as though she was going to smile, but wouldn't, and the way her eyes would laugh even if her lips didn't.

Or maybe he was just head over heels.

"JIWOOOOOONN!"

His train of thought cut off rather abruptly, Jiwon cleared his throat and was forcefully reminded that he was supposed to be on the line. "Yes, Yumi?"

"I said," and her voice hinted of impatience, "Could we meet at school, in the gym itself? I'll be helping out with some of the… things, so if you go there, all you have to do is look for me! You won't even need to pick me up or buy flowers or all that, you know."

" _I had to do all that?"_

"Yeah sure, the genius has no problem!" he replied heartily, his response automatic to his instincts. "I'll see you there then, Yumi!"

The line cut off with a click.

_"Oops, maybe I shouldn't have spaced out. She seems angry."_

He made a conscious effort to ignore the side of him that laughed hysterically at the thought, and turned his thoughts towards getting his outfit ready. Even then, a face refused to leave his mind, and it wasn't Yumi's. The strangest part that sent shivers down his spine was that it was not the face of JinAe either, but instead that of Koo Junhoe.

**_"The world is coming to an end"_**  he fretted.

 


	4. Going Round in Squares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prom night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ typos and grammsr lapses is visible please ignore ]
> 
> We're almost at the end. If you have read this far, congrats! You were able to tolerate this drabbles (?) that I've written just because I found ballroom dancing quite interesting. Hahahahaha.

.

.

He stretched, curved his right arm up, and tried to bend back further, his spine protesting with a series of 'crack' sounds. Sheepishly, he straightened, and tried it again.

"No, no, Junhoe," Mrs. Park chastened laughingly. She stepped over to his left side and then pulled his hand back so that the arm position spread to a further degree, and then poked a spot on his lower back firmly.

"This," she instructed, "is where you feel the flow. Remember the Paso Doble is a fierce dance, a matador dance! It has to feel," and she gestured with her own arms, "big. As if you own the world, Junhoe."

He closed his eyes slightly, visualized what she was saying, and then dropped into the position. She walked around him and adjusted the stretch of his fingers, pushing his ankle closer to him so that the overall look was compact, and then nodded in approval.

Ever since he had revealed his identity to her, Mrs. Park had been determined that he should rightfully learn the male's role in partner dancing. Of course, since everyone knew him as JinAe, he had changed his lessons to alternate Fridays, when the studio was closed until the evening, when it opened for students to practice. A public's night, if you would call it that. He still went to the recreation club in disguise, but changed out when he got there, that was all.

Junhoe appreciated his teacher's efforts to no end. Discovering this side of himself was new, but he thrived in this precise, unknown direction. They had become close, over the months, and she had just about taken the place of his surrogate mother, since his own mother had moved to America to be with his father. His father had been posted to San Francisco to oversee a new branch of the company a little over three years ago, just when he had started high school, and he had chosen to remain here.

"Yes, yes, that's it. Work on that. Now, have you been practicing your samba…?"

An hour and a half later, he was exhausted, dripping with perspiration. Mrs. Park went outside, and he slumped on the couch, trying to catch his breath, only looking up when he noticed her feet in front of him.

"Here," she handed him a dry towel, indicating that he should mop himself up. He had forgotten to bring his own today.

"Thank you."

She settled beside him, wiping her brow with a faded yellow rag of her own. A comfortable silence hung between them.

"That guy… Kim Jiwon… you know that boy from school, Junhoe?"

He blinked, startled at the sudden question. After a moment, he folded the towel neatly over one hand, and leaned back, his head thudding dully against the wall as he closed his eyes. "He is in the Music club, too."

She chuckled beside him. "And yet he does not recognize you?"

Junhoe grinned slightly in spite of himself. "He almost did, the first time."

Mrs. Park nodded, still laughing a little. "Well, he has potential, you know. I've dropped in often enough on your lessons with him. A little awkward, not sure of himself, but natural nonetheless."

He shrugged. "I suppose so."

She looked at him, her plump cheeks creased in a smile. "And this 'Prom Night' he keeps talking about… are you not going, Junhoe?"

Junhoe resisted the urge to shrug again, and settled for scratching his wrist noncommittally instead. "I'll drop by and take a look later. I suppose."

His teacher clucked in mock sternness. "Such indifference to a day which is supposed to be special for all you boys and girls! Don't you have a nice girl waiting to go with you?" she cocked an eyebrow at him.

He laughed genuinely this time. "No, not really. There's no one I want to go with anyway." He glanced at the clock, and felt his eyes widen. It was five-thirty! The dance started at six.

She followed his gaze, and rose in alarm. "Look at the time! Shoo! Go and get ready, young man. Use the shower right there. I've already switched the heater on for you. The first of the lot who come to practice will be arriving any minute now."

 

* * *

  
Jiwon looked at himself critically in the mirror. It was five-thirty, and he would take exactly half an hour to get to the school. He looked at the pile of loose change on top of the dresser, and decided spontaneously to take a cab instead.

He hadn't had much to wear, really. Jiwon didn't keep a lot of formal clothing. In fact, he didn't own any that still fit him, last piece of said formal clothing being the graduation attire he had kept since his kindergarten years.

So Jiwon had done the wisest thing he could have done. He went to his mother, who had promptly pulled out a trunk of his father's old clothes from a dusty corner in the storeroom.

He had nearly, embarrassingly, spilled into tears at the sight of a familiar blue-and-black checkered jacket that he remembered had seemingly permanently adorned the elder Kim's shoulders, but collected himself just in time.

  
_"Dad always said I would sooner go out naked than wear that jacket."_

He was right.

Laughing with his mother at the memories, they had dug through the various items in the numerous cardboard boxes, considering and discarding about five years worth of miscellaneous outfits, before finally settling on what he was wearing now.

It was nothing spectacular, really. Just a half-open white dress shirt tucked into loose black pants, with plain silver cufflinks and a semi-formal, black turtleneck underneath.

But it was enough.

His digital clock beeped alarmingly, and he looked up, jolted from a particular memory in which he had stolen this same shirt a long time ago and been dwarfed in it. He bit back a curse, and flew over the mess on the ground.

_"Argh! I'm late!"_

 

* * *

  
Junhoe paid the taxi-driver, and then shifted over to push open the door. The sound of pop music blasting in the air greeted him, along with a large, colorfully painted banner that screamed 'LG Annual School Prom' in neon pink letters. Grimacing slightly, he lugged his leather bag over his shoulder and turned, swinging the taxi door close and stepping away as the cab drove off.

The school was bustling with activity as the evening sun dipped over the horizon, flaming the sky with spectacular shades of burning orange. Excited chatter, laughter and streamers bedecked the scene, and he walked slowly towards the more or less deserted entrance to the gym. There was a locker room there, and he resolved to make that spot his hideout for the night lest any particularly energetic schoolmate try to cajole him into doing anything he didn't want to do.

It was only when he had set his bag down, looked in the mirror, and noticed a smudge of light mascara staining the corner of his eye, that he heard the voices outside.

"…Yes! It's going to be hilarious!"

Female laughter, tinkling with a semblance of malice, filled the air. "He's going to be –so– embarrassed, Yumi!"

" _Yumi? Where have I heard that name?"_

He walked to one of the bathroom stalls, grabbed a roll of toilet paper, and made his way back to the sink, wetting the material and raising it to his face to remove the traces of his make-up. The conversation outside continued in hushed whispers, obviously oblivious to the listening guy within the isolated locker room.

  
"Oh, god, I don't even want to think of what he's going to wear. Luckily I told him he didn't have to bring flowers. Can you imagine? He might have gotten sunflowers!"

  
Junhoerolled his eyes in spite of himself as he rewet the tissue. What was wrong with sunflowers anyway?

  
"The best part is going to be the show later," a confident, snide voice interrupted. "Just wait until the host announces that he's prom king! I'll be nowhere in sight of course. And he's going to be standing there, alone, the poor dear—" the tone switched to a mocking one, "—with nobody to dance with and everybody watching him. Pitiful, abandoned, Kim Jiwon. I don't think even his thick-skinned ego would excuse him out of this one—"

  
Junhoe froze.

  
The voices trailed off, and he knew they had left. Dropping the tissue into the sink, he gazed towards the door of the locker room. " _My god. Yumi… that's the cheerleader who asked Jiwon to the dance."_

  
" _She and everyone else… they're planning to make a fool of him."_

 

* * *

 

 

Less than ten minutes after Junhoe had exited the cab, another taxi pulled up in the same spot. The driver turned his head, smiling at the boy seated in the back.

"School dance, is it? You must have a pretty date waiting for you, dressed as nicely as you are."

Jiwon blushed at the old man's cheerful tone as he fiddled in his pockets, coming up with a jangle of coins and a bill. He counted out the correct amount carefully, and then leaned forward to drop it into the driver's waiting hand. "Thanks for the ride, sir. Here's the cash."

"You enjoy yourself now, lad!" the cab driver yelled as he stepped out and closed the door.

Jiwon laughed, suddenly in a very good mood. Tonight he would show everyone what he was capable of!

" _But wait. Did Yumi know how to dance?"_

" _Ah well it's okay. I can teach her! Now all I have to do is find her…"_

He headed for the main entrance, beaming at everyone in sight and enjoying the atmosphere. Craning his neck to look around, it wasn't long before he spotted familiar people, and waved frantically. "Donghyuk!"

As Jiwon disappeared into the milling crowd, the door to the side entrance of the gym opened, and Koo Junhoe strode out, a grim, determined expression on his face.

_"Got to warn him, got to warn him."_

The relentless mantra in Junhoe's head was fading to a dull buzz. He checked the school clock as he squeezed past another group, ignoring the gasps and swoons of the girls in his wake. Six-thirty. Where the hell was that dumb guy?

The overhead speaker crackled to life, and the deep baritone of the host filled the hallways. "Ladies and gentlemen! Do join us all in the gym now! We've got the refreshments, the food, the lights and the music! So what are you doing somewhere else…"

Junhoe tuned the annoying voice out, his frustration increasing by the second. On normal days, when he didn't want to see Jiwon, the loud rapper would always, by Murphy's Law, appear in front of him. Now was the one moment he desperately needed to see the guy, and it figured that the latter chose this very time to be difficult to find.

"…and don't forget to vote for your prom king and prom queen! Just slightly under an hour left, and we'll know who the lucky, popular, beautiful and talented winners are! Of course, you've got quite a selection of the school's bevy of beauties and hunks to choose from, so hurry up and make your way down to…"

_"Damn it, dumb idiot, where are you?"_

He was halfway to the gym when the central lights went off, leaving the dim glow of the party lights to illuminate the school grounds. Around him, hoots and catcalls filled the air.

_"Shit."_

How was he going to find Jiwon now?

 

* * *

 

 

"Have you seen Yumi?" Jiwon yelled over the throbbing music. Donghyuk scrunched up his face, signaling that he couldn't hear. Jiwon scowled, preparing to haul his best friend closer and shout in his ear, but a girl appeared at that moment. She smiled up at Jiwon, before tugging at Donghyuk's hand and standing on tiptoe to whisper into his ear with a visible blush even in the dark surroundings. Donghyuk straightened and turned back to him, shrugging with a wide smile on his face and jerking a thumb at the dance floor as he led his petite partner into the crowd.

With a sigh, Jiwon leaned back into the shadows of the gym and stretched out his hand to take the plastic cup of punch he had set down on the low table earlier. Where was Yumi? He was never going to get to dance with his date at this rate, and everything he had learned with JinAe required a partner. Perhaps he could convince Donghyuk to lend him his psrtner for a while later…

 

* * *

 

 

It was seven. Junhoe was beginning to get a headache.

He turned another corner, trying to see past the milling students onto the dance floor, but in the dim light, practically everyone was a shadow. With a barely audible growl, he surged into the fray and continued scanning the crowd.

_"Too short, too fat, too skinny…"_

A sudden tap on his shoulder brought his heart plummeting to the ground.

_"Oh no. The dream, the dream,"_  his mind babbled. " _It's happening!"_

Steeling himself for the headmaster's visage, he turned around, controlling his breathing and subconsciously inhaling as he faced…

Nothing.

He blinked, looking left and right. " _Did I imagine it?"_

A hand swiped in front of his face and he moved back sharply, finally noticing that the one who had called him –had– been standing in front of him. Only that she was about two heads shorter, and Junhoe, being Junhoe, had not noticed.

_"I thought nothing could make me feel more like a fool than running around the school looking for an idiot. Wonders never cease."_

"Junhoe?"

He stared down dangerously at the tiny girl, who clutched her corsage nervously as she made moony-eyes at him. She looked vaguely familiar, but he didn't have the energy to place her face just then as his thoughts returned immediately to the task at hand.

_"Jiwon! Find Jiwon!"_ his brain screamed.

"Junhoe, I just wanted to let you know that I'm voting you for prom king," she said shyly, casting her eyes down and waiting to see his response. Maybe he would ask her to dance? She was only a first-year, but she had attended every single practice since she had first caught a glimpse of him, and surely he had noticed…

When she looked up again, Junhoe was gone.

Promptly, she burst into tears.

Directly behind her, hidden by a pillar, Jiwon turned at the wail that penetrated his hearing. He could only see the back of a slightly plump girl dressed in an off-the-shoulder white gown, a large blue carnation decorating her wrist as a corsage. He glanced back balefully at the dance floor, where Donghyuk and his partner were laughing and twisting their limbs in a layman's version of the cha-cha.

_What the heck,_  he decided, putting the empty cup down and shouldering his way out of the corner he had tucked himself in. " _Maybe Yumi will be able to see me on the dance floor and find me, because I sure as hell can't seem to see where –she– is."_

He approached the bawling girl and touched her arm lightly, putting on a bright smile as she stumbled and turned, sniffling up at him.

"Want to dance?"

 

* * *

 

 

Seven-fifteen.

"Yes, I'm sure you guys out there are having a GREAT time!" another student host, screamed into the microphone. "Just a reminder that we're in a neighborhood area—" and there were several boos at this statement, "—so please make a conscious effort to keep the noise down, or the plug's going to be pulled!"

If anything, the sound level in the gym seemed to increase.

"Also, remember that you have fifteen minutes left before the crowning of our prom king and queen! Vote, vote, vote! Who's the prettiest of them all? Who's the cutest of them—" her voice died in a screechy whine as the microphone was switched off, and the thunderous music resumed its blaring from the large speakers around the gym.

There wasn't any time left. Junhoe stopped on the spot and glared icily at the jostling crowd around him. He had no way to warn the guy, and he didn't know well enough the technicalities of the bimbo cheerleader's plan to put a stop to it either.

No hope, then. There was nothing he could do. A strange feeling of despair settled over him as he practically ripped himself out of the broiling mass of bodies and slammed himself against an unobtrusive door, from which underneath shone a sliver of light. He tumbled into a corridor, blinking at the sudden whiteness of the fluorescent bulb overhead.

When the black spots in his vision had cleared, Junhoe noticed where he was. He was at the hallway that led to the side entrance of the gym. At the end of the corridor was the mostly abandoned locker room, where his bag was still sitting under the sinks.

A sudden flash of insight hit him.

_"It could work…"_

"Damn it, damn it," he cursed aloud as he pulled the bag out from where he had placed it earlier, upending it on the counter. A damp exercise towel (he really had to remember to return it to Mrs. Park) fell out. Followed by a long red dress, a crumpled white sweater, stockings, open-toed sandals, his dancing shoes, a slim stick of eyeliner, the plastic bag containing his hair extensions, a pair of dangling silver earrings and a tube of lipstick.

_"Ha",_  his mind interjected timidly. " _Are you sure about doing this?"_

He grunted, turning his head to check if the door was still bolted before he shrugged his jacket off and tossed it to the floor. Sports shoes, socks and jeans landed atop the growing pile.

 

* * *

 

 

_:I can't believe it,"_  Jiwon groused, making his way back to the refreshment table for another cup of punch. " _Almost two hours, and I haven't even caught a glimpse of Yumi. I wonder what she's busy with."_

He turned his thoughts back to the present. The first-year girl he had "rescued" earlier was Seohyun, who as it turned out –did– know how to dance. He had been pleasantly surprised to learn that she had previously attended group lessons at Mrs. Park's, and he had enjoyed himself immensely dancing the salsa with her, both of them coming up with new variations of their own and trying them out amidst much laughter. Seohyun had left a little while ago to look for the rest of her friends and her date, also a first-year junior. He suddenly realized he had forgotten to ask her why she had been standing alone in the middle of nowhere crying.

Blowing his fringe out of his eyes, he brought his wrist up and pressed a button on his watch. The faint yellow glow of the digital numbers told him that it was five minutes to seven-thirty.

 

* * *

 

 

"Is everything ready?!" Yumi hissed from behind the announcer's bench. The host turned around at her voice, winking at her and giving her a thumbs up. "Don't worry so much, babe! Everything's under control. Two minutes to show time."

She laughed, and then leaned back into his boyfriend's arm. "Gosh, it's going to be –so– funny," she whispered gleefully to the guy. Her head against his chest, Yumi didn't notice as the guy's look of discomfort changed to disgust.

 

* * *

 

 

Junhoe wondered privately about the feasibility of his plan. His disguise wasn't foolproof, that was for sure, and he had never gone up against a crowd of this size, every single one of which knew –exactly– how Koo Junhoe looked. He examined his appearance in the slightly cracked mirror, and then fervently applied a thicker coat of lipstick, before dropping the tube and snatching the slim stick from the counter. He drew out his eyebrows and lined his eyes more dramatically, trying his hardest not to blink as the pencil slipped slightly. Hopefully, the light would do the rest.

From outside, the speakers crackled and burst into life again, the hosts' voice carrying over the muffled sounds of the crowd. "And now… let's have a drum roll please, ladies and gentlemen, as we finish tabulating the votes that will tell us just who this year's prom king and queen of LG High School are…"

Junhoe dropped everything with a muted expletive and ran towards the locker room door, his hand falling on the knob as he twisted it hurriedly. Grim anticipation kept him from noticing the problem until a grand total of five seconds later.

The lock was jammed.

Someone was announcing something, but Jiwon could care less. He was dimly aware of a dull pitter-patter outside, which meant that it was probably raining, and from the sounds of it, raining heavily. The heat in the gym, however, had rose to a stifling inferno, and he shifted, of half a mind to take off the white shirt and escape to the cool outside.

The other half of his mind, interestingly enough, was nowhere near the dance.

 

He smiled fondly at the memories his mind conjured. Those were his first trials, and he knew he had come far from the immature brat he had once been. Somewhere along the way, Kim Jiwon had grown up.

The completely irrelevant and unrelated thought chose that inopportune moment of reminiscing to make itself heard.

_"I wish JinAe was here."_

Surprised, he considered what had just passed through his mind. Did he really wish JinAe was here with him? The quiet, fiery-tempered Junhoe look-alike?

It wasn't as though he was unaware of those faults. Jiwon had always been consistent on the fact that girls were meant to be well mannered, even in temperament, sweet and helpful, and considerate, all things considered. But JinAe was different.

JinAe had personality.

He couldn't stop a small chuckle from escaping him when he remembered the lesson where he had miscounted the beat and stepped on her foot. Maybe, after all this was over…

_"I'll ask her out."_

He was so engrossed with the thought, he didn't realize that the spotlight hovering and spanning the crowd was getting dangerously close to him.

"…and our prom king is…"

Only later, when he allowed himself to reflect on it, did Jiwon realize that the bad feelings he had been experiencing the whole night had condensed into one big lump in his throat in that moment. It was as though he suddenly –knew– what was going to happen, the motive for Yumi's no-show the entire evening becoming crystal clear.

"KIM JIWON!"

The name thundered in his ears, blocking out the deafening silence as he stood there, paralyzed on the spot. Every single light in the room swiveled and focused on him, and the crowd began to murmur, whether in shock or outrage, Jiwon didn't care to decipher.

And then the snickering started.

He flushed to the roots of his hair, the burn of humiliation and embarrassment scalding his cheeks and warming his face. His hands were clenched tightly into fists at his side, and truthfully, Jiwon didn't think he was going to be able to laugh this one off. Dimly, he noticed Donghyuk somewhere to his left, too far to make out his voice but close enough to see the look of angry comprehension and murderous intent written all over his best friend's face.

The host cleared his throat, but it was obvious that the guy was sniggering. "So, before we go on to who our prom queen is, may we ask this year's prom king to do a dance of honor for us? With—" and the next words were annunciated cheerfully, "—his DATE?"

The spotlight remained unmercifully on the head of the guy. The crowd had surreptitiously cleared away. Kim Jiwon stood there, alone, cruel laughter provoking him from the sidelines and seeming to echo in his ears.

And then the side door to the gym burst open, flooding the darkness with a pathway of stark white light.


	5. In Her Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the most unexpected person will save your day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ blah blah blah... you know the drill ]

**_._ **

**_._ **

**_*Flashback*_ **

 

Junhoe stared at the jammed door in stunned horror for a long, frozen moment.

This can't be happening.

He fell to his knees, checking the lock. It had rusted over time, and when he had slammed it earlier in his haste, he had not thought it would do any damage. Cursing in every language and dialect he had learned, Junhoe stood, moving back to give himself momentum. Then he ran at the door, smashing into it with his shoulder.

The door didn't budge.

Junhoe would have screamed if it was in his habit to do so. Instead, he picked himself up, noting absentmindedly that it –hurt–, but retreating to repeat the action. He glowered at the door.

It's either you or me, buddy.

 

**_*End of Flashback*_ **

 

Junhoe suddenly realized that every single eye in the entire world, or at least, every single eye in the world encompassed by the gym, was on him. The heavy silence hung tangible in the air, but he ignored it, his gaze rising to sweep the floor before him.

" _They did it. They really did it."_

Anger rose in him as he regarded the open-mouthed people at the announcer's booth. Behind the host, he could see Yumi, her face a mask of disbelief, and snickered silently to himself. His eyes however, still ended up drawn to the silent figure in the middle of the room, where a bright spotlight made it impossible to miss him.

Slowly, he moved forward, barely aware that the crowd was shuffling away to give him space, parting for him to move forward. At that moment, Jiwon looked up slightly, and the flash of tears in mahogany eyes that had become familiar to him made Junhoe's heart twist. He advanced without a break in his step, keeping his gaze on the power forward.

_"Look at me, Jiwon. Look at me."_

His silent plea worked better than he had ever imagined pure pleading could, because Jiwon straightened in that instant, raising his head and meeting his eyes across the cold, littered floor.

"JinAe?" he whispered before he could stop himself. Was he hallucinating?

Could illusions smile at him, take him in with bottomless brown eyes, hold out both hands in the position he had learned was the basic for any dance? He reached out, hesitating, not daring to believe, until his palms encountered warmth. Could illusions feel warm?

"Jiwon." The voice was low, a whisper that he barely caught.

"Don't look down."

He blinked, startled.

And then Jiwon cracked up right there on the spot, a huge smile breaking over his face like sunshine as he dashed his eyes with the back of his hand and straightened, looking squarely at the pale face in front of him. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, not the least of which was what she was doing here, and he opened his mouth to start, but JinAe shook her head slightly, throwing him off. She stared at him for another long moment, before another small smile graced her lips.

"Shall we dance?"

Donghyuk laughed softly under his breath, the first sound at the shocked announcers' table. Yumi was electrified into action, her face an angry twist as she lunged forward to take the microphone…

But was promptly tripped over by her date. Donghyuk beat her to the sound box, hefting the microphone up in his left hand and switching on the amplifier with the other.

"What music would our prom king and his date like?" the host asked the silent gym cheerfully.

They stood a little way apart, JinAe cocking her head slightly at him, still with that half smile on her face. Jiwon was overwhelmed. It was as though everything else had faded away, everything but the steadfast glint in the bright eyes that locked onto his face.

The all too familiar strains of a song he had heard over the past two weeks trickled over the speakers. It filled Jiwon like wine, stoking his senses, making him incomprehensibly giddy.

 

_Now I've had the time of my life_

_No I never felt like this before_

_Yes I swear it's the truth_

_And I owe it all to you_

 

And then she was in his arms, her hands speaking more than words ever could have as she led him skillfully through the mambo. Back and two, forward and four, side, side, close, spin and back. She felt like a butterfly to him, whirling so gracefully on her toes.

He breathed in her scent, by now familiar. She didn't look at him anymore, but he knew she was smiling, if only inwardly. He sent her out on a close-hold spin, checking his footwork. For the first time, the dance seemed real. This was no lesson, and they both knew it.

 

_I've been waiting for so long_

_Now I've finally found someone to stand by me_

_We saw the writing on the wall_

_As we felt this magical fantasy_

 

Something about her looked different today. Her hair was tangled, tousled over her shoulders, and her eyes seemed larger, darker. He bit back the pang in his heart that told him this was only one moment, and not eternity.

 

* * *

 

Junhoe could feel his heart thundering in his chest as he moved, smoothly, under Jiwon's arm and executed a drop. The boy's movements were natural tonight, flowing with Junhoe's own, and he was amazed by how synchronized it felt, locked together, as though they had been practicing for this time.

 

_Now with passion in our eyes_

_There's no way we could disguise it secretly_

_So we take each other's hand_

_'Cause we seem to understand the urgency_

 

The rhythm seemed to be the only thing that existed. The faces of the crowd blurred into an unreality, as did the floor, lost as he was in this incredible, unbelievable situation. How had it all started?

 

_With my body and soul_

_I want you more than you'll ever know_

_So we'll just let it go_

_Don't be afraid to lose control_

 

The music was ending. He wrapped an arm securely, deliberately, about Jiwon's waist, and stepped behind the taller boy, maneuvering his movements to a front-to-back stop, not knowing how to say what it was he wanted to say and still do what he knew he had to do.

_"I think I like you, Kim Jiwon."_

As the last note faded, Jiwon felt the music pulled from his body, seeming to flow from his soul, leaving him empty but for the warmth at his back.

_"JinAe…"_

As suddenly as that, it was over. Finished, in silence. The protective circle of her arms left him slowly as she moved back, but he could still sense her standing there behind him.

And then the tumultuous applause began.

The crowd surged forward, a sudden burst of noise and congratulations and awe and admiration. He felt his heart swell with something, but he didn't know what it was. He turned, needing to see JinAe, to look at her.

But she wasn't there. In the chaos of the mob, JinAe had vanished.

 

* * *

 

Junhoe crouched as the stampede to the middle of the room began, grateful to the darkness for once as he fought his way out of the core. The moment he was free of the main tangle of bodies, he stood swiftly, making his way towards the side door.

He looked back once to make sure Jiwon wasn't watching. The boy was buried under layers of students, and he could clearly hear Donghyuk, one arm slung around Jiwon, cheering and gloating. "You showed them, genius!"

Opening the door, he fled the gym.

The only thing he could hear was the blood pounding in his head.

 

* * *

 

 

_"Where is she, where did she go—"_

"You showed them, genius!" Donghyuk crowed triumphantly, turning to grin at his friend, "That was absolutely brilliant!"

Jiwon wasn't paying any attention, his eyes desperately scanning the crowd. Donghyuk noticed it immediately. "Who're you looking for, Jiwon?"

The boy hissed with frustration as someone else knocked him off balance, turning back to speak urgently to his friend. "Hey, did you see the girl I was dancing with? Do you know where she went?"

"The girl?" Donghyuk repeated, surprised. "We all figured she was just a junior who knew you and who knew how to dance. She should be around somewhere, shouldn't she?"

"No!" Jiwon burst out, trying in vain to get his point across. "Her name is JinAe, she's from another school, she's my dancing teacher. I don't know what she was doing here tonight, but I need to find her!"

Donghyuk's eyes widened. "Your dance teacher?"

Jiwon nodded. "Help me get out of here already. I have to talk to her. This… she is… it's important to me. Please."

 

* * *

 

 

Junhoe ripped the hair extensions off, stuffing them clumsily into the plastic before bending to sweep every discarded item on the bench up and into his leather bag. Not bothering to wear his boxers, he pulled his jeans on, stumbling with one leg in the material as he hopped towards the sink. Zipping up the denim, he leaned forward, hitting the tap with the flat of his palm and scooping up the running water.

Scrubbing his face thoroughly, he moved to the stall, unrolling an unhealthy amount of toilet paper and drying his tingling skin. He stood and checked himself quickly in the mirror.

_"It'll have to do."_

Turning back to the bench, he plucked his jacket from where it was lying dolefully on the wood, slipping it quickly over his shoulders. He couldn't bear to stay any longer, and he would definitely have to leave before someone ventured into this corridor looking for where Jiwon's mysterious counterpart had disappeared to. Logically, –someone– would have seen him, and it wouldn't be long before they put two and two together.

Scanning the area hurriedly one last time to make sure there was no more incriminating evidence left behind, Junhoe hefted his partially closed bag onto his shoulder and moved to open the door.

 

* * *

 

 

"She came from over there," Donghyuk pointed to the barely noticeable door that led to the side entrance of the gym. "That was all I noticed. If she's going to leave, she'll be leaving by there too! Hurry up!"

Jiwon squeezed past the remaining groups, barely noticing as the other hosts' voice came over the speaker again. She sounded more subdued, but he honestly didn't care. "...and now for our prom queen, ladies and gentlemen, she is..."

He practically leapt over the refreshment table, just missing the collision with the pillar as he dashed towards the door. Behind him, he could hear Donghyuk shout for him to go ahead, and he didn't think of doing any less as he reached out, grabbing the cool metal handle and pulling the door open so violently that it nearly swung off its hinges.

They stepped into the corridor at the exact same time.

Junhoe's blood turned cold in his veins at the telltale click of the gym door closing, and he spun automatically to meet the threat.

_"Oh, god, no."_

Jiwon stood there, panting for breath, staring at him but seeming not to really see him. "Junhoe?"

Junhoe tried to find his voice, weakly managing only an automatic "Dumb idiot."

That catapulted the boy into action, but what surprised Junhoe most was that Jiwon didn't retaliate with a biting comment as usual, instead coming closer and looking up and down the hallway. The expression on the boy's face was distraught, and Junhoe felt surprisingly relieved.

_"He doesn't know. He hasn't figured it out."_

Was that even possible? Could he be that lucky?

"Have you seen a girl? About your height?" Jiwon began, twisting around as his gaze darted back towards the gym. "Black hair, brown eyes, she looks like..."

His voice trailed off as he turned back. The corridor was empty, the door that led outside was just closing, and he caught a glimpse of the silver threads of rain, turned orange by the glow of the streetlights.

"...you."

_"She looks just like you, Koo Junhoe."_

His heart thudded into his shoes and his mind began to reel. Not for the first time, JinAe's face appeared in his mind, but this time, he pictured Junhoe alongside it. The dream he had had came back in full force as he stared at the opaque door, as if begging it for an answer.

He suddenly noticed a glint on the floor, shiny in the glare of the fluorescent light, winking up at him. Time seemed to slow down as he approached the object, squatting down to pick it up.

It was a silver earring.

 

* * *

 

 

The rain pelted his shoulders mercilessly, but Junhoe didn't care. He ran, out of the school compounds, feeling the sting of the heavy drops on his cheeks.

It was barely eight. The studio would still be open. Without further thought, he changed direction, heading down the west street instead, his feet pounding the sidewalk. The only thing that remained in his mind was the look in Jiwon's eyes when the boy had burst into the side corridor, looking anxiously and desperately for JinAe.

That was when Junhoe had known. He had known it just as instinctively as he knew how to dance, felt it just as painfully as he felt the deception of his other identity. But Jiwon's feelings in this case would amount to nothing.

_"Because JinAe doesn't exist, Jiwon,"_ he screamed silently _. "She's nothing but a lie."_

He continued running.

 

* * *

 

 

Jiwon slumped on the ground, the truth still refusing to sink into his brain.

_"JinAe is Junhoe, JinAe is Junhoe, JinAe is Junhoe."_

Donghyuk burst into the corridor, breathing heavily in the doorway. "Jiwon! Did you find her?"

"JinAe isn't here." He recognized his own voice, dull and monotonous, yet it didn't feel like he was the one talking. "JinAe was never here."

"What are you talking about, Jiwon?! She was right there! She was dancing with you!"

_"Yes. She was dancing with me, wasn't she? JinAe?"_

"Jiwon!" Donghyuk sounded frustrated at his lack of response. "What's wrong with you? I thought you wanted to find her! Didn't you say she meant something to you? That she was important?"

_"I did. I thought she was someone I could love."_

"God, Jiwon," Donghyuk swung him around to glare at him, "Don't be like this! What's come over you? Just now... I've never seen you so happy as when you were dancing out there!"

_"I've never felt so happy as when I was dancing out there, either."_

"Jiwon!" his best friend shook him hard, "Just. Tell. Me. What. Happened!"

_"What –had– happened?"_ Jiwon wasn't so sure that he knew himself, but the choked words in his voice answered Donghyuk anyway.

"She lied to me."

His best friend's features reflected stark surprise. And then, looking at Jiwon, Donghyuk's expression softened into compassion.

"She's... she's not who I thought she was, Donghyuk." His face crumpled as he brought his hands up to hold his head. It felt like a personal betrayal. He supposed in some ways, it was.

_"But was it my fault for not seeing?"_

Junhoe obviously hadn't disguised himself for the purpose of deceiving him, because he had already been dressed as JinAe the first time Jiwon had seen him at the studio. Even if Junhoe hadn't told him the truth, was it Junhoe's fault?

" _Maybe I'm the one who's a fool."_

Had he known, from the first day when he had inadvertently blurted 'Junhoe' on the very same doorstep that JinAe and he had sat on as they came to an unspoken truce? He had been too blinded by his own prejudice to see things clearly, certain that Koo Junhoe could never have been in that situation, certain that Junhoe wouldn't help anyone if his life depended on it, certain that Junhoe was a closed-off, unfeeling bastard.

The worse part was that, past the meaningless wall of enmity he had singularly erected between them, he had seen into the real persona of the boy he knew as his classmate. Seen into him, and thought none the worse of him for it.

_"Quite the contrary..."_

He had treated JinAe as an individual, and in doing so, looked beyond the face of the Junhoe who commanded cult-like fame both on and off the school ground. Now, Jiwon couldn't even decide what to feel other than the instinctive knowledge surfacing in his mind that he had been wrong (–and– wronged) all along.

"Jiwon... does it really matter?" Donghyuk asked helplessly. He didn't know what to do with the boy behaving like this, a marked contrast to his typically positive, cheerful self. What could he say? "Does it change how you feel?"

It was as though he had said the magic words.

The silence in the corridor grew as Jiwon looked suddenly thoughtful, pensive, the raw hurt in his eyes fading to another different, calmer emotion. They stayed that way as the seconds drew out in the quiet ticking of a wristwatch; Donghyuk concerned and Jiwon lost in thought.

And then suddenly, Jiwon stood up so quickly that Donghyuk, who had been crouching beside him, lost his balance and fell back.

"I need to go somewhere for a while, Dong. Don't wait for me tonight, okay?"

Without stopping for an answer, he ran towards the door, only pausing momentarily to pat his pants' pocket and make sure that the earring was still there.

Then he opened the door and slipped out into the pouring rain.

 

* * *

 

 

Junhoe stopped just in front of the recreation club, his breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps as he keeled over, his hands dropping to his knees as he tried to support himself.

Where did he go from here? Even if no one else knew, could he go on living a double life like this? Jiwon enjoyed dancing; that much was obvious. Would the boy go back to the studio? Look for JinAe?

Or would Jiwon expose him? Mrs. Park knew… but Junhoe was certain that other members of the dance community, at least, those who had seen him as JinAe, would balk at his deception. It would be over for him there if that happened. He would have to go somewhere else to start all over again, away from the environment he had grown to know.

_"I could just stop dancing for good."_

The rain cooled his hot skin, clearing his head slightly as he dragged himself up to the steps of the club, giving up and falling to the stairs, his arms curving around himself in an attempt to keep himself warm. He didn't know how long he stayed there, rocking to and fro; his eyes squeezed tightly shut, hearing only the rain and the soft music coming from within the building.

And his shoulder still hurt from banging down the door. What had possessed him to go up against seven feet of half-rusted, solid steel?

_"You just couldn't leave him in the lurch, could you?!"_  he accused himself sharply. " _Nooo, you had to poke your head in where it didn't belong and jump in to save the world. Had to be a Good Samaritan. There goes your reputation as a heartless creep, Koo Junhoe."_

Oblivious to everything outside his circle of thought, he didn't see the dark shadow as it detached itself from the bleakness of the night.

 

* * *

 

Jiwon stood silently at the gate, his clothes soaked through, and took in the rare sight of Koo Junhoe curled in upon himself, his head buried in his arms.

Donghyuk's question came back to him.

_"Does it change how you feel?"_

Deep down, Jiwon already knew the answer. It hadn't been JinAe's legs (amazing though they were), her dress or even her dancing that had attracted him to her. It was just… her.

And in that split second when Donghyuk had asked him if anything had changed, everything had become ridiculously clear. In this case, nothing was different, because it was just –him–. Just Junhoe.

That knowledge, of course, did not completely bury the trepidation he felt.

Resolutely, he pushed open the gate. It didn't even creak as per normal, its joints rain-slicked and wet. His eyes, fixed on Junhoe, noted exactly when the slim shoulders tensed imperceptibly and the dark-haired boy stilled.

 

* * *

 

Junhoe sensed someone, and immediately stiffened. No one was supposed to be outside like him. And no one had any reason to be there, in the rain, either.

_"No one except… him."_

He gulped, bracing himself to look but not quite succeeding, when a warm hand fixed itself under his chin and tilted his face up.

"What are you doing here?" was all Junhoe could croak.

In the moonlight, the serious gaze was offset by amusement that sparkled in mahogany eyes. "You dropped something. The genius, in return for a kind deed, absolutely had to return it to you in person."

Junhoe blinked, not catching on, and Jiwon took the chance to drop to his knees and lean forward slightly, catching hold of the other boy's right hand and turning it up gently. Then he placed something in the open palm, and curled Junhoe's fingers around the cold metal.

 

* * *

 

_"My earring. I dropped my earring."_

"Don't look so shocked," Jiwon teased softly. "Did you think –I– was going to keep it?"

Jiwon exhaled slowly.

"What are you doing here?" he repeated, clearer and more forcefully than he really felt as he willed himself to look at the boy directly. His throat felt drier than he cared to admit. "You should be at the prom—"

"How did this happen anyway?" Jiwon cut in blithely, shifting about so that he was seated on the wet stones at Junhoe's feet. He turned his gaze to the sky, closing his eyes as the droplets of now-lighter rain traced gently over his face. After a few moments of silence, he turned inquiringly to Junhoe.

Junhoe shrugged. "I've not the slightest clue."

Well, he had certainly broken his personal record of the number of words he could utter in one sentence.

The boy pursed his lips slightly, then cocked his head and began fiddling with the hem of his black pants. "How come… how come you didn't tell me the truth?"

_"Ah. Back we go to the eternal question."_

"What business was it of yours at that time?" he replied flatly.

_"I'm definitely talking too much."_

Jiwon frowned, and Junhoe could practically see the gears in the boy's head turning.

"It served your purpose to learn dancing, didn't it?" the dark-haired boy continued at last when it became apparent that Jiwon wasn't going to answer the earlier jibe. "The fact that I'm Junhoe didn't make a difference to your teaching. Which brings me back to my first question. What. Are. You. Doing. Here?"

 

* * *

 

"Will you stop asking me that?!" Jiwon burst out.

_"What is –wrong– with him? He's not answering anything properly!"_

He looked at Junhoe, really looked at him for the first time since the startling conclusion of the entire mess had dawned upon him. Junhoe turned away.

He calmed down, taking a few deep breaths as he thought about what he wanted to say. Was there really anything to say, anyway? Jiwon had thought he would have had a barrage of questions, not the least of which was "What now?". But face to face with Junhoe, all the accusations seemed to melt away, replaced by indecision and uncertainty.

"I don't have all night, you know."

 

* * *

 

The moment the words left his mouth, Junhoe wanted to laugh hysterically. Score one for déjà vu.

"You realize this means I can't look at you and scream at you after this," Jiwon mused, looking thoughtful.

"Why not?" Junhoe snapped before he even realized what he was saying, "You can just go away and pretend this never happened, you know."

The warm mahogany gaze settled on his features again. Discomfited, Junhoe forced himself to glare back.

"I could, I suppose," the boy said at last, "But I want to know where that will leave us."

_"Us? There is no us!"_

_"There's only you… and me."_

"This conversation is insane," he finally mumbled, one hand seeking the strap of his bag as he prepared to stand. "I'm leaving.

 

* * *

 

_"I guess this means no more twenty questions."_

His hand shot out and caught Junhoe's as the latter moved to rise. He yanked the shorter boy down, back onto the stone steps, and took advantage of Junhoe's momentary surprise to heave himself up and settle beside the other. Before Junhoe could say anything, he let go of the dark-haired boy's hand and blurted out the single nagging thought that had been plaguing him the entire way here.

"There's only one thing I want to know, Junhoe. Why?"

_"Why did you help me? Why did you do what you did back there at the gym? Just tell me that honestly… and then I'll go away if you want me to."_

 

* * *

 

Junhoe heard the silent questions behind the voiced one. Did he dare to answer truthfully? What could possibly come out of it? The queries were getting repetitive, as were the answers, and he felt tired of it. He could just take the easy way out…

"Don't lie to me, please," Jiwon said quietly.

_"What the hell. You asked for it."_

With one last shot at bravado, Junhoe dropped his bag to the side, scrambled forward before he could lose his nerve, and kissed Jiwon lightly on the lips, nearly toppling the both of them over in the process.

"I think I like you."

 

* * *

 

_"I think I like you."_

That voice again, whispering again. Would he ever get used to it?

Come to think of it, there was the matter of that smell as well, that sweet, intoxicating scent that belonged purely to Koo Junhoe and nobody else. Jiwon fervently believed he could get used to –that– as well. Though it would take a bit longer to adjust to the nail polish.

He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, finally noticing that the tremor beneath his hands was not entirely his own.

_"He's just as scared as I am."_

There was still a lingering doubt lurking at the corners of his mind, though. It was an unchangeable fact that both he and Junhoe were male. Despite his heart harboring a tentative openness, his brain refused to process that particular fact. He wondered seriously if he could look past the body, past the face, and into the soul, to find the person within as he had done before.

_"I thought she was someone I could love."_  His own words to Donghyuk, less than an hour ago.

Well… risks were for taking, and chances were for trying, weren't they?

_"Ok. Less thinking, more expressing."_

"That's good," the words finally tumbled out of his mouth; his own throat was suddenly feeling clogged.

"Because I'm pretty sure I like you, too."

 

**-end-**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end. It's open ended, but I think I ended the story okay. Right? I hope you guys like the story. This is the longest I've written so far since I am not used to writing chaptered fics. 
> 
> Once again, thank you for reading this. :*

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me if there's something that's kinda confusing so I can fix it. I know ballroom dancing is so outdated and that it's not used in any JS Prom anymore, but that's the only dance I know where Junhoe can cross dress. So.... yeah! :)


End file.
